Always
by RGW317
Summary: Six years after a nasty breakup, Clarke and Lexa unexpectedly find themselves out to dinner with their current significant others. Can the past, and both of the girls current lives, stand in between a love that has always felt like everything? I'm awful with summaries, but it's angsty, and full of feelings, but most of all it's Clexa.
1. Chapter 1

"For the love of god, Finn, how many times do I have to tell you to get rid of that tie?" Clarke Collins shouted from across the kitchen. Placing her hands on her hips, she fixed her husband of three years with a hard stare. Finn laughed. As he always does, when Clarke yells, when she cries, when she's happy. Clarke used to think it was endearing.

"It's my favourite." He said, shrugging.

"It's ugly," she stated, walking over to stand beside him, "but you knew that already."

"Exactly why it's my favourite." He laughed, pulling his jacket out from the coat closet.

"Because it's horrendous?" Clarke reached for her coat as well.

"Because it annoys the hell out of you." Finn smiles at her, and Clarke almost forgets how much she hates that green, polka dotted tie around his neck. Finn Collins was undeniably handsome, with a strong jaw, dark hair, and even darker eyes that had caught Clarke's attention that first week of orientation at Oberlin. He was a pre-med student, and she was undecided, but she'd never been indecisive when it came to Finn. At least not in the beginning.

"This is important, Finn," she stressed, as he placed a hand on her back and led her out the door. They made their way to his car, and as he opened the passenger side door for her, she turned to face him again. "This is my boss we're talking about, you know? The one that hates everyone? The one that has the potential to ruin my career if he doesn't like me?"

Finn just laughed, and Clarke wanted to smack him, but instead, kissed his cheek as he leaned closer. "I'm sure that she wouldn't invite you to dinner if she didn't like you." He said, after a moment, looking at her earnestly through long, dark, lashes.

"That's the point of dinner," Clarke huffed, as they pulled out of their building's parking garage and made their way into town. "This is the deciding dinner, to see if she likes me enough to either promote me or dispose of me."

"You make yourself sound like a dirty dish towel." Finn says, rounding a corner.

"To Costia Miller I probably am." She sighs, leaning her head back against the headrest. Everything had to go perfect tonight or she could kiss her entire career as an event planner goodbye, and Clarke desperately didn't want that. Not after her failed attempt at medical school, and the inevitable fallout with her mom. For once, Finn actually takes notice of his wife's anxiousness, and reaches across the centre console for her hand. Lacing their fingers together, Finn brings her hand up to his lips and drops a light kiss on the back of it.

"She will love you, Clarke, everybody always does." He says, and she smiles, because it's moments like this that reassure her. Moments where Finn is too sweet, and too wonderful, for her not love him like she promised to three years ago. Moments where her mind shouldn't be allowed to travel to that place she'd long since put behind her, the _person_ she'd long since put behind her.

They arrive at the restaurant five minutes later than they should, because Finn was convinced he knew a shortcut, and decided to ignore Clarke's protest, and her already google-approved directions. Clarke is shaking she's so nervous, clutching onto Finn's arm, and taking deep breaths every few moments. They enter the building, and Clarke barely sputters out the name for their table when they are being led across the restaurant and to a table that was still empty. Finn shot her a look, that clearly meant 'See, they're not even here', to which Clarke replied with her signature icy glare.

"Collins." Clarke jumps, as Costia Miller appears before them, in a white blazer and a red dress that cut off just below her knees. She looked incredible, and put together, and absolutely everything Clarke hoped to be one day, maybe just minus the bitchy demeanour. Clarke goes to stand up, but Costia shoots a hand out to stop her, "It's dinner Clarke, not a work meeting, calm down."

Clarke swallows, "Oh, of course." She smiles, and hopes it doesn't look uncomfortable, "sorry."

Costia just nods, and takes a seat, folding a silky peach napkin on her lap. Finn takes this opportunity to introduce himself, and Clarke stiffens nervously as he reaches, dumbly, across the long table for Costia's hand. "Finn Collins," He grins, and Clarke prays that it works, that his classically handsome face works its magic for her, and makes Costia more compliant than usual. "Clarke's husband."

Costia doesn't take his hand, she flicks her brown eyes down at it for a moment and then looks back at Clarke. "Lovely," She says, and it scares the fuck out of Clarke. The way she's looking at her, like she's both curious and already unimpressed, the way her bow shaped lips purse in contemplation. No doubt contemplating Clarke's future with Miller & Co. "My wife should be here soon, she just got held up at work."

It was Clarke's turned to sit back, surprised. "Oh," she says, "what does she do?" Clarke never took Costia for the marrying type, she never even really took her for the dating type. Somehow she imagined her living alone in a super expensive condo with maybe a houseplant, or a cat.

"She's a director," Costia replies, and Clarke smiles at that. _Of course she is_. Because Costia Miller had standards, for her business, her closet, but Clarke figured most definitely for her dating life.

"Can't wait to meet her." Finn says, taking a bite of the breadstick on his plate. The waiter comes around to fill their glasses, and Clarke is tempted to snatch Finn's. Instead, she reaches across the table for the hand she knows is seconds from picking up the crystal wine glass. Lacing their fingers together, Clarke smiles up at him, hoping that this all looks perfectly normal. That Costia won't see the hidden message behind Clarke's touch. _Not tonight_ Clarke's eyes say as she stares at Finn, in what she hopes looks like complete adoration.

x

That's when she walks up. When Clarke is, quite convincingly, staring lovingly into Finn's eyes, like they are they sweet, and still completely in love with each other couple they should be. Lexa coughs, because she doesn't know what else to do, standing at the edge of the table staring at the woman that was her everything.

"Darling," Costia smiles, touching her elbow with slim, cold, fingers. "You made it."

 _Used to be your everything,_ Lexa chastises herself internally, turning her full attention back to her wife. _Clarke Griffin used to be your everything, now she's your nothing._ Clarke gasps, and it takes all of Lexa's self control not to break her eye contact with Costia in favour of looking at Clarke. Of taking in the new Clarke, the one who's hands were all over her boyfriend when Lexa walked up.

"Lexa?" Clarke says, and Lexa curses herself because she should have known better. She should have known that the universe was too terribly cruel, and unfair, for it to allow the two of them to keep their distance.

So that's why she does it, because she felt jilted, like she'd become the object of fate's really _not funny_ joke. Lexa looks up and studies Clarke, her sunny blonde hair and bright blue eyes, nothing had changed. Nothing would ever change, not when it came to Clarke. "Sorry…" She says, slowly, like she's really thinking about it. "Do I know you?" Clarke's face pales, stunned, speechless, and for a moment Lexa feels sorry.

But then she remembers, she remembers watching Clarke's sun tanned, back as she walked away from Lexa at the Griffin's fourth of July party six years ago. The feeling of Clarke slowly slipping through her fingers, of her distant replies, and her mechanic _'I love you's._ More than anything, though, Lexa remembers the feeling that her heart had been ripped out of her chest, like everything she'd ever believed in had died the night she saw Clarke kiss him, the man she was now seated across from. So Lexa sits down, her face impassive, letting the walls she'd built back up since Clarke, rise and rise until they surrounded her. Until they encased her in the cold, lonely, assurance that she was safe, and Clarke couldn't get back in, Clarke couldn't wreck her again.

"Oh," Clarke says, and it's quiet and shaky, "I must have been mistaken."

Costia raises an eyebrow, "You said her name." Lexa wants to tell her to stop, because she knows Costia, she knows that her wife's iciness could rival her own, but she doesn't. She leaves Clarke to flounder, to drown in the ocean of space that is now between them, to be attacked by a shark also known as her wife.

"She must have heard it before," Finn says, protectively, tightening his hold on Clarke's hand. Lexa finally looks at him. Taking in every feature of his face, from his dark eyes, to the straight teeth and orbit white smile, she'd never pegged him as Clarke's type. She felt like she may be sick, from anger, from sadness, from jealousy, her stomach clenching at the sight of the man who took the only thing she'd ever really loved.

Costia doesn't push, and it surprised Lexa, almost as much as the feeling of Costia placing a hand on her knee. They were married, they both loved each other, but they were in no way affectionate outside of the home. It was different, Lexa's relationship with Costia. Everything felt different with anyone other than the blonde sitting across from her. Different in the way that meant it wasn't all at once. That Lexa hadn't fallen in love with just one look at Costia, not like she had with Clarke. Lexa took years before she'd been able to open up to her wife, but it only took a few months with Clarke. Everything with the blonde was easy, and seamless, and so god damn _right._ Like they fit, like they had been made for each other, like the universe had physically fought for them to be together. Until it didn't anymore, until Clarke decided _she_ didn't anymore. Didn't love Lexa, didn't want to fight for Lexa, and didn't believe in what Lexa always had. That somehow, someway, these two girls would always be linked, tethered to each other like their souls would never be two separate things. Things with Costia had taken time, they understood each other, but not in the way that lovers usually do. No, Costia and Lexa understood each other because they were the same. They were closed off, private, ambitious as hell, and nothing kept them from their work. That's why Lexa let her in, that's why she finally broke down and said yes to Costia's polite dinner invitation, and eventually her polite invitation to move in, and her also equally polite proposal. Because Lexa had always hoped that things would become easy, that after everything, all her doubt, and determination to make this relationship work, that Lexa would realize it was Costia. Costia was the one, her wife, her soulmate, her person. That was what people always said, didn't they? Marriage was work, love was work.

 _So how come loving Clarke always felt the same as breathing?_

"Well, now that we're all here," Costia begins, and she squeezes her wife's knee, making Lexa realize she must not be hiding her anxiousness all that well. "Let's talk about you, Collins."

 _Collins?_ Lexa's eyes snap back to Clarke, well, more like the flashy diamond and golden band settled on her ring finger. And suddenly, Lexa knows she's going to be sick, she can feel the past six years of resentment twist and turn inside her stomach. She pushes up from the table, ignoring Costia's look of shock. Mumbling something along the lines of an 'excuse me', Lexa makes a beeline for the bathroom.

Lexa grips onto the edge of the sink, leaning forward in an attempt to steady herself. Her head was spinning, and her heart was beating violently against her chest. It had been six years. Six years, six years, six years. She shouldn't be feeling like this, not anymore. Not over the girl who broke her heart in college, not with her wife sitting at the table across from her.

But Lexa knew. She knew this would happen one day. That she'd catch a glimpse of sunny blonde hair that used to leave traces of vanilla scented shampoo on her pillows, of deep sea eyes that use to make her knees buckle, of pink lips that used to know every single inch of Lexa's body. And it was too much. After years of trying to rebuild herself after Clarke, all Lexa felt like doing was break. Her walls, her promises, her heart, again, and again, all for Clarke.

X

 _Clarke was sick. She'd had a cold for the past week, but that wouldn't keep her away, not tonight. She pulled on her Harwood High School sweatshirt, twisted her hair back into two braids, and glanced in the mirror on last time. Her cheeks were flushed, the tip of her nose was red, and she felt like she might pass out on the way to the game, but she didn't care. She wouldn't miss tonight, not for anyone or anything._

 _The gym was crowded, people lined the bleachers and she had to stop and study every face before she spotted her friends. Raven and Octavia sat on the very bottom, no doubt so their cheers could be heard by the rest of the Harwood Girls Volleyball team. Clarke plopped down next to them, and ignored the way Raven rolled her eyes and Octavia smirked at how obviously sick she was. "You are so whipped." Octavia muttered, shaking her head._

 _"_ _Can you blame me?" Clarke asked, not turning to look back at her friends, because that was when she spotted her. Lexa was standing with the rest of her team, her wavy brown hair pulled up into a ponytail, and dressed in the long sleeved dark green and white jersey with 'Woods' printed on the back. Her green eyes were sparkling, and Clarke could see it from where she was sitting, as she watched Lexa talk to the rest of the girls animatedly with her hands. Raven chuckled while Octavia just slapped Clarke on the arm._

 _"_ _We get it, Griffin, your girlfriend is hot." Raven said, pulling a tissue out of her bag and handing it to Clarke._

 _Clarke grinned, and took the tissue, but not before locking gazes with Lexa. When Lexa's eyes found hers, she felt instantly better, like her body wasn't aching with a cold, or her head cloudy with thoughts of sleep and when she needs to take more cold medicine. When Clarke looks into the dark, deep forest that was Lexa's eyes, all Clarke could ever think, more like feel, was that she was home. Lexa smiled at her, it was small, and quiet, and only meant for the two of them, and it made Clarke's heart soar._

 _Lexa was by far the best player on her team, but it wouldn't have really mattered to Clarke. She would have come to every single game anyways, she would have cheered just as loud, and hugged her just as tight after every game even if she sucked. This night, however, Clarke felt especially proud. Lexa was incredible. Spiking balls left and right, diving and saving them right when everyone thought it was too far gone. Harwood won all three sets, albeit with some struggle, but Clarke knew Lexa loved it. She loved the challenge, she loved being reminded that there was more to work on, things to get better at, and that was one of the reasons Clarke loved Lexa. Because she was determined, and hardworking, and it also didn't hurt that volleyball's required uniform was a tight top and bike shorts._

 _When Lexa scored the winning shot everyone in the bleachers stood up cheering, and Clarke couldn't stop herself. She shot up, and started walking forward, stopping when she realized what she was doing. Lexa didn't care, because next thing she knew, Lexa was in her arms, hugging her like it was everything. Like it's all she'd been waiting for, holding her tightly as if this was the most important thing in the world. To Clarke and Lexa, the_ high school _Clarke and Lexa, though, it probably was._

 _Lexa pulled back, her green eyes gleaming, and her chest heaving from the game, but Clarke swears she'd never looked more beautiful. Clarke blushed then, remembering that she was a mess, with a stuffed nose and possibly a fever. Starting to pull away, Clarke was surprised when Lexa tightened her hold around her waist._

 _"_ _I'm sick," she giggled, squirming in Lexa's arms. "I don't want to give it to you, Commander."_

 _Lexa just smiled, and it made Clarke dizzy. "I don't care," Lexa whispered, "I just won the biggest game of my high school career, Clarke, and I want to celebrate it by kissing my adorably sick girlfriend." Clarke couldn't breathe, and it wasn't because of her nose anymore, it was because Lexa was pressing her lips against hers, softly, and she tasted like minty gum, and Gatorade, and Clarke swears that in this moment she's never tasted anything better. Clarke pulls away after a moment, and laughs, resting her forehead against Lexa's._

 _"_ _That was so wrong, and you are so going to catch my cold, but thank god because I've wanted to kiss you since I woke up this morning."_

 _Lexa's grinning from ear to ear, ignoring all the calls from her teammates, and staring at Clarke with such affection it makes Clarke blush even more. "I love you, Clarke Griffin." She pulls Clarke back in for a hug, and sighs when Clarke's lips make contact with the skin just below her ear._

 _"_ _And I love you Lexa Woods…always."_

X

Lexa doesn't look up when she hears the door open and close, she doesn't look up when she hears the gentle footsteps that are heading towards her, and she definitely doesn't look up when she hears the tentative voice behind her. Because she knows who's there, she knows that despite everything, Clarke is Clarke, and that she is Lexa, and no matter what the situation is Clarke would never let Lexa cry alone in a bathroom. Husband and wives sitting just outside the door be damned.

"Lexa?" Clarke is so close, that Lexa grips harder onto the sink just to remind herself not to reach out and touch her. Not to turn around and cup Clarke's face like she used to.

"Go away." Lexa sighs, she's shaking now, her shoulders hunched in an attempt to not let the blonde behind her know her quick state of unravelling.

"Lexa, please just-"

"No!" Lexa shouts, whirling around and finally looking at Clarke, finally giving her what she wants. Tears slip down Lexa's cheeks and she watches as Clarke visibly winces in pain at the sight. _Good,_ she thinks, you deserve to hurt for once.

They didn't speak for what felt like years, just stood and stared. Lexa took in to detail the slight changes in Clarke's appearance, her face looked thinner, like she'd lost weight and it annoyed Lexa because that's how she knew Clarke was stressed. Probably from work, or studying, or… _wait._

"What are you doing here?" Lexa blurt out, impatiently. "When…when Costia said we were having dinner with her employee she didn't mean you, did she?"

Clarke just blinked, her blue eyes dull and sad, and suddenly Lexa didn't even recognize them anymore. "No, she did mean me. I've been working for her for almost a year now."

"But what about med school?" Clarke didn't reply, she just continued to look at Lexa with a heavy gaze. Lexa broke, she started laughing, maniacally as she looked the woman in front of her up and down, like she was a stranger. _She is_ , Lexa reminded herself, this Clarke Griffin, the one who'd been seated next to the man on the other side of the table, was a complete and utter stranger to Lexa. "Oh my god," Lexa snorts, and she knows it's mean and wrong, but she can't help it. She can't believe what she's just discovered. "First me, then medical school, what else have you decided to ruin, Clarke?"

Clarke flinches at that, her mouth turning down in a frown right before her bottom lip disappears behind her teeth. That's how Lexa knows she's about to cry. "That was years ago Lexa... we were kids."

"Oh I know," Lexa says, straightening her back and looking Clarke dead in the eye. "We were all kids, you, me, and _him._ "

"Lexa, this is hardly the place-"

"You're right," Lexa snaps, "This is hardly the place to reunite with my ex, at dinner with my wife and her husband. Who, oh yeah, I almost forgot she left me for."

Clarke is wringing her hands, her eyes flicking from Lexa's face to the door, and back. The air is thick, and Lexa wishes more than anything that this wasn't so easy. That standing before Clarke and yelling her frustrations wasn't so natural. Lexa and Costia never fight, they never talk out their feelings, they just ignore their grievances as if they weren't there. Lexa had almost forgotten what it was like to feel this way, to be angry, and hurt, but still feel the need to fight, the need to reach a level of understanding. And now her heart lurches in her chest, squeezing violently at the sight of tears in Clarke's eyes, at how incredibly blue it makes them, and how familiar they look again.

"I…" Clarke chokes on her words. "I don't know how to tell you how sorry I am for hurting you, Lexa. I've wanted to try and contact you for so long but I just didn't know what to say."

It's all too formal. The way they are standing, speaking, looking at each other. It was as if they knew everything and nothing about each other all at the same time. Like Clarke had never touched Lexa, or kissed Lexa, or whispered sweet words into her ear in situations just like this. Where Lexa was shaking, and crying, and believing that she was broken beyond repair. Clarke used to deny it. She used to hold Lexa in the middle of the night, and tell her that she'd never felt so complete. Clarke used to tell Lexa that nothing could break her, but Clarke failed to realize that she was the exception.

"There's nothing to say." Lexa says, finally, pushing off the sink and heading for the door. These few minutes of confusion were all that she was going to allow, she'd spent too many years repairing herself to crumble at the first sight of Clarke. "We managed to avoid each other for six years, after this dinner I plan to keep it that way." Without another word, Lexa pulled open the door and walked out, ignoring the screaming voices of every other part of herself telling her to turn around and face Clarke again. It had been six years, and Lexa's heart still hadn't quite managed to realize what her head had been reminding her for the past 2,190 days, Clarke was a weakness she'd never let herself indulge in again.

 **Hey there everyone! I hope you've liked the story so far, I wasn't prepared for all the angst but it kinda just poured out haha. Still not too sure where I'm going with this story, I got it from a prompt on the internet where a woman has to go to dinner with her boss and she brings along her husband who has a tendency to drink to much. So somehow I managed to make a Clexa fan fiction out of that so I'm very excited to see where it goes. if you haven't already read it, I'd love to direct you to my other ongoing Clexa story called The Bet, if you like this than I would recommend giving that a try! New chapter coming soon, don't forget to leave me a review with your thoughts on the story!**

 **Thanks for reading :) - R**


	2. Chapter 2

_Lexa can't remember the last time she'd smiled so much. Maybe, she'd never smiled this much ever before, how could she when she didn't know Clarke? Clarke who made her grin like no other, Clarke who made her laugh ridiculously – and very uncharacteristically – loud, Clarke who made her heart skip, and stutter, and beat so fast she was sure she'd go into cardiac arrest._

 _"_ _Lexa!" Clarke sputters through her fits of laughter, "Just stand still so I can untangle your hair!" Lexa jumped from foot to foot, whining as Clarke tried her hardest not to tug too hard on her long mess of curls that had become even more of a mess during their midnight swim, that had apparently turned into a midnight till 3am swim. They were cold, and dripping wet, but Lexa would have stayed in the Griffin's pool for hours if it meant she'd get more moments like this. More water fights, quiet and hushed giggles as they tried not to wake Clarke's parents, sweet, chlorine infused kisses that were able to stop Lexa from shivering in the cold night air._

 _They battled to get in through the doors of the pool house, with Clarke's hands still in Lexa's hair, and Lexa leading the way to the couch in the middle of the lounge area. "Hold still!" Clarke demanded once again, but when Lexa turned around there was a soft smile on her face. Giggling, Lexa reached up and tugged Clarke's hands away from her hair and looped them around her waist, she then wrapped her arms around Clarke's shoulders pulling her close._

 _She was shivering, but with Clarke's body pressed against hers Lexa didn't think that would last for long. "How did I let you convince me into a midnight swim?" She mused, biting her bottom lip as she looked the blonde up and down. "I've got work tomorrow, and now I'm going to be exhausted." Lexa squeezed Clarke tighter with that, in quiet reassurance that she was only teasing – and if she had it her way she'd still be in the pool, Clarke's legs wrapped around her waist, arms around her neck, wet hot kisses all over her mouth, and jaw, and neck._

 _"_ _It's the Griffin charm." Clarke smiles, and it's bright, and warm, and Lexa wants to groan at how lovely her girlfriend is. At how perfect, and wonderful, and simply amazing she makes everything, even silly little things like midnight swims. This is when it hits Lexa. The first day of summer after their senior year, standing in the Griffin's pool house, soaking wet and shaking, but feeling like she'd never lived before this. Like life had never been so bright, and vivid until she could see the dark shade of blue that Clarke's eyes could change into in the dim lighting of the moon through the pool house windows. Lexa could never love another person the way she loves Clarke. The way she would undoubtedly_ always _love Clarke._

 _Clarke shifts then, sensing the change, how the air had become heated and charged, at how Lexa was trying to say something but her tongue wouldn't let her. She steps away from Lexa, but reaches down to intertwine their fingers, tugging her towards the bathroom. Clarke lets go of Lexa's hand only for a moment to turn on the shower, then she's before her again, and she's not smiling anymore. Her eyes are dark, and sparkling, and they're looking at Lexa in a way that makes her want to drop to her knees right then and there._

 _"_ _Let's get you out of this wet swimsuit, Commander." She says, softly, and it makes Lexa feel faint. Clare reaches around her to unclasp the bikini top, letting it fall to the ground, and her eyes roam over Lexa in the way they always had. Loving, and affectionate, and with such wanting that it made Lexa's heart beat a mile a minute. Bending down, Clarke let her hands trail down Lexa's body as she starts to pull the bottoms down her legs. Lexa feels like she's no longer in her own body, like she's watching from the sky as Clarke touches her in the most intimate of ways, as she undresses her and leads her into the shower. As she whispers "I love you" into Lexa's ear over, and over, and over again. Tonight was not the first time Lexa realized she loved Clarke, it was the night she realized she would always love Clarke. No time, or distance, or space could change the ache in her heart for this girl that had changed her life so completely._

X

"So Finn, is it?" Costia asks over her glass of red wine, she'd ordered it the moment Lexa had run off towards the bathroom. It had a complicated name, and Clarke could smell it from where she was sitting, but she tried to keep a face of indifference as she watched Costia offer it to Lexa…her _wife._ Lexa hated red wine, she hated the smell, the raging headache's it would give her the next day, the way it stained white carpets. Lexa took the wine as she sat back down, gulping it down with such nonchalance that Clarke almost swears she'd imagined that one time she'd held Lexa's hair back for two hours as she was sick from breaking into her parents wine collection on a dare. "What do you do?" Costia continues, "What are your hobbies?"

"I'm a doctor," Finn states, and he takes a sip of his wine, and that's when Clarke realizes how majorly she has fucked up. She left him alone, with Costia Miller, and the wine menu sitting on the table between them. "A general practitioner to be more specific." Lexa snorts into her glass, it gets the tables attention and she gives a small shrug of apology.

"And as for hobbies…" Finn leans back, placing a hand on Clarke's thigh and squeezing. It makes Clarke want to scream. The increasing feeling of how quickly she is losing control, of how twisted, and confused, but most of all, conflicted she is in this moment. "I'm an avid swimmer, I'm always trying to get Clarke to come along with me to the club pool, but you just never were a water baby, were you babe?"

Clarke doesn't answer straight away, she's too busy looking at Lexa who is glaring at Finn like he just declared to be a raging Trump supporter. When Finn squeezes her thigh tighter this time to get her attention, Clarke winces in response. "Oh," she breathes, "yeah I'm not a fan of swimming much anymore."

"Bad experience?" Costia asks.

"Something like that," Clarke replies, feeling Lexa's eyes on her.

"Interesting…" Costia says, in a way that clearly means she could care less if Clarke liked to swim or not, and it set the entire table into an uncomfortable silence. "so back to work here, Clarke. Why should I promote you to executive assistant?"

There it was, the question, the purpose of this entire now completely awkward situation. Clarke had spent hours perfecting how she'd reply to that question, but now, sitting across from Costia Miller and her wife, Clarke can't help but falter. At the thought of Lexa with someone else, something she should be indifferent about by now, something that shouldn't make her heart heavy and her jaw clench. "I… I um – "

"Clarke is perfect." Finn cuts her off, and now Clarke knows it's too late. She didn't have the opportunity to count how many glasses he's had, how much alcohol content would be in that wine, and now she was going to pay for it. "Everybody loves Clarke."

"Is that so?" Costia asks, raising an eyebrow.

"Finn," Clarke chastises, but she keeps a strained smile on her face. "Please ignore him."

"I was." It's barely audible, but there is no doubt in Clarke's mind that it came from Lexa and she said it with the intention that only Clarke would hear. It draws the attention of both Finn and Costia, though, and Clarke quickly backtracks.

"I think I've shown you in past projects what I'm capable of, I can only hope that under your guidance I can further myself in this career, and the opportunity to be Executive Assistant is more than I could hope for at this point." It's well-rehearsed, and presented, but Clarke is praying that it's not tainted by third party commentary – also known as Clarke and Costia's significant others.

"You're right." Costia says, and Clarke swears she thinks she just felt hell freeze over beneath her feet.

"I…I am?" She asks, tentatively.

"I've been meaning to promote you for almost a month now, Collins. I just wanted you to show some initiative. I wanted you to ask for it."

Clarke didn't quite know what to do, she sort of wanted laugh, but then when she saw Costia give a small smile to Lexa she knew what she really wanted to do was cry. Never had Clarke thought she'd be faced with the single biggest regret of her entire life at dinner with her boss and her husband. The regret wasn't Lexa. Clarke, despite all the brokenness, and the pain, could never regret Lexa. She didn't have the authority to anymore. No, Clarke's largest and most pressing regret in life was walking away from the woman across from her. From being too scared, and too immature to face what she was really feeling.

"I told you she didn't think you were a dirty dish towel, babe!" Finn grins from beside her, and with that one statement, Clarke is positive that it is time to leave. She takes a deep breath, steeling herself against Lexa's hard gaze.

"Thank you, Costia. I can't tell you how grateful I am." Clarke says, yanking Finn's hand off her leg under the table.

"Just show me how grateful you are, Collins. First thing Monday morning, we've got a meeting for a new event that I'm planning to leave in your hands." Clarke's eyes widen, but not at Costia's words, but at the fact the waiter had just topped up Finn's glass, again. She was in a panic, trying to form words, trying to compose herself so that she could figure out a way to get Finn the hell out of here before he turned into the drunken mess he always became after a couple of glasses.

"Clarke, are you alright?" It was Lexa, and it made Clarke's heart stop. She turned to look at her, trying to ignore the way a few strands of hair had fallen out of Lexa's French braid, framing her face in the way that used to make Clarke swoon. "You look very pale." Lexa says, looking at her pointedly, with a familiar glint in her emerald green eyes. Clarke couldn't believe it, Lexa was helping her, and Clarke quickly kicked herself internally because of course Lexa would help her. Lexa used to be able to read Clarke better than anyone else, and it seems that six years hadn't changed that.

"Oh…" Clarke trails off, placing her hand on her cheek and not taking her eyes off Lexa. "I just feel a bit dizzy, I haven't felt my best today, and I think I might need some air."

"Why don't we just head out early?" Lexa suggests, turning to her wife with a look of pure innocence. "We should let Finn get Clarke home to rest." Clarke thought it best not to mention that she would most likely be the one getting _Finn_ home to rest. Costia stared at Lexa for a moment, a look of confusion painted on her delicate face, before she finally shrugged in agreement. "I'll see you Monday then, Collins?" Costia asked, turning back to Clarke.

"Yes, I'm sure I'll be feeling better by then." Clarke gives a small smile, but it's not for Costia, not _really_. It's directed to Lexa, who's green eyes are glittering in quiet, shared conspiracy. It's easy for Clarke to forget in that moment. Forget the table, and the people sitting around them, forget the time or the place, because all she could really see was Lexa. Lexa who, despite the years gone by, had skin that still glowed like it was lit from within. Lexa who still had chestnut coloured curls that tumbled down her back, and a smile that made Clarke dizzy with lust, and love, and such deep affection that swelled within her she swears she could burst.

Lexa that despite just twenty minutes ago, claimed she never wanted to see Clarke again, still cared enough to save her when needed. It made Clarke want to cry, or scream, maybe even laugh. She was filled with emotion, with _want._ She fought the urge to reach across the table for Lexa's hands, for her lips, for the feeling of Lexa's skin against her own. To right the biggest wrong that existed between them. Instead, Clarke stood up from the table, giving a polite goodbye to her boss and her wife, and reached for Finn's hand.

X

Lexa and Costia didn't speak much on the way home. The only sound that could be heard was the light tapping of Costia's fingers against the steering wheel. Lexa reached over and turned the radio up, to drown out the silence, the space that she felt forming between them.

It had only taken one chance encounter, and now Lexa was falling. Fast, and headfirst, into her thoughts, and feelings, and that place she promised she'd never go again. To the place of: Does she miss me? Does he make her happy? To her, was he worth it, worth everything we once were? It's a peculiar feeling to look into the eyes of the person a lover left you for, and remain completely anonymous to them. Finn had sat there so confidently, touching Clarke, smiling at Clarke, speaking to her like he owned her. _In a way, he does._ Lexa thought, bitterly, he owned her heart, and it was solidified by the pear shaped diamond ring on Clarke's left hand. He had absolutely no idea. To him, Clarke was and always had been his. He'd never shared, nor ever thought about her love life before them, why would he? But Lexa knew. She knew that Clarke could easily walk away from Lexa, but that she'd never walk away from what they were. Love so deep it could make a girl go mad, and maybe, possibly, that's just what it had done.

"So tonight was interesting." Costia says, startling Lexa so much that she jumps.

"Yeah," Lexa breathes, gripping onto the leather seats, "Interesting."

"Clarke shows real promise," Costia continues, oblivious to her wife's conflicted features. "But that husband of hers? He seems like quite the handful."

"Yeah." Lexa says again, because it's the only word she can formulate between her lips right now. It's the only thing that won't make Costia wonder what the hell is wrong with her, why she's gripping the seat so tight, why she can't look anywhere but out the window, why, why, why.

"Oh well, guess what he lacks in personality he makes up for with that face." Costia laughs lightly, and Lexa loses it. She's shaking, and in desperate need of air, and maybe more of that disgusting wine Costia gave her earlier.

"I didn't find him that enticing." Lexa says through gritted teeth.

"Lex, you don't have to be straight to admit that he is a good looking man." Costia grins, and it baffles Lexa at how clueless she can be. How she can look at Lexa and not see the obvious irritation, and anger, and other emotions she's hiding just below the surface. They'd been married for almost a year, and Lexa was still hoping. Hoping, praying, and absolutely throwing herself in attempts to make this work. To convince herself that this was right, that she wasn't still waiting for something she'd lost six years ago. How does one promise to love someone when they so obviously still love another, and then live with themselves after?

Lexa felt pathetic, and low, and quite possibly like she was the worst wife in the world in that moment. Looking at Costia's easy grin, and green eyes, and wishing they were blue. Wishing it was Clarke she was sitting across from now, wishing she had answers, and reasons, and that she could go back and shake herself until she convinced her former self to go after Clarke that night. To stop her as she walked away, to turn her around and remind Clarke, the one who had become a shell of her old self that Lexa was there, that she would _always_ be there.

When did everything become so wrong? When did loving someone turn into trying to pretend you never met them? Moving on turned into actively pursuing people who couldn't possible remind you of your past, and falling in love again turned into valiant efforts of denying that you were still in love with someone else. Marriage was work, wasn't it? Love was work, right? That's what every magazine, book, and inspirational instagram post had told Lexa.

So what was Clarke then? If loving Clarke had always been the most innate and natural thing Lexa had ever felt, was what she felt for Costia even stronger because it took so much effort?

Lexa's thoughts were interrupted by Costias hand on her arm. "Hey," Costia says, softly. "Are you ok?" And Lexa just nods, leaning back against the seat and staring ahead. She knows she should say something, try to at least explain to her wife why the very thought of Clarke Griffin had her in such a state. But her lips felt like they'd been wired shut, the gaping hole in her heart too big, and too ugly for Lexa to even consider describing. The last person Lexa had talked about Clarke with, _was_ Clarke.

So instead of telling Costia the truth, of explaining the history, and the heartbreak, and the reasons why Lexa was the way she was, she reaches over and squeezes Costia's hand. "I'm fine," she says, "just thinking."

 **Hey guys! Hope this chapter gave you a bit more insight into what Lexa and Clarke had before the infamous fourth of July party, I promise more angst, and answers, and jealous Clarke and Lexa are to come! Thanks so much for all the wonderful reviews, they really make my day. Any thoughts on where Clarke and Lexa might go from here? Will they tell their significant others? Will they actually talk to each other?**

 **Thank you so much for reading! - R**

 **ps- sorry if the first bit is fluff overkill, I just love Clarke and Lexa together.**


	3. Chapter 3

Clarke wasn't sure what she was doing exactly. Standing in the middle of Seattle's Star Prix hotel ballroom, holding on to the clipboard Costia had given her so tightly you'd think it was a life boat.

"I want it to feel sparkly," Costia says, with a glimmer in her eye, that Clarke had yet to ask about. In fact, Clarke hadn't had much of a chance to ask about anything relating to the not-so-secret event Costia was leaving her in charge of. The moment she'd stepped through the door, she'd been accosted with clipboards, and ideas, and a newly formed itinerary that meant Clarke would not be going out for the next month. Letting her eyes flick over the notes she had struggled to take down during their browse of the Star Prix venue, Clarke bit her lip in confusion.

"Sparkly?" She asked, trying to sound interested, curious, as an executive assistant should. Trying to pretend she didn't notice the ring on Costia's finger more often now, how it was simple, and elegant, and _so Lexa._

"Yes, it has to be grand, you know? Your wife only ever turns twenty five once."

Clarke yelped, dropping the now broken pen from her hand. Costia glanced at her, a dark eyebrow raised in concern. "This…this is all for Lexa's birthday?" Clarke asked, she threw in a smile hoping that she looked composed.

"It is," and Costia is smiling again, and it feels like Clarke was just sucker punched in the stomach. The way Costia's whole face brightens at the thought of Lexa, the way she assumes Lexa must obviously light up at the thought of Costia. That alone makes Clarke want to run for the hills, but she doesn't. She stands there, staring at her ex-girlfriend's wife, and tries her absolute hardest not to crumble. _You can do this Clarke. You can plan this event, you can execute your job without feelings involved._ "And since I'll be away for the month visiting our other Miller & Co branches overseas, I'm relying on you, Collins. Make this party one that my wife will never forget."

Clarke wanted to mention that before everything, before Costia even _knew_ Lexa, Clarke used to make Lexa's night… a lot. She held her tongue, though, as she watched Costia, she was tall, and lean, and had flowing dark hair and eyes, and it made Clarke wonder. It made her wonder what first peaked Lexa's interest, was it the air of confidence, or the obvious beauty? Was it the way that Costia could make you feel both big with her compliments, and small with her scrutiny?

She didn't have to wonder about how Costia had fallen for Lexa. To Clarke, falling in love with Lexa was as easy as laughing at the corny jokes she made. It was simple like the smile she'd have when she greeted someone in the hallway at school, or when she saw a cute dog crossing the street. Nobody just _knew_ Lexa, because to know her was to love her. She made life easy that way, she made love feel natural, and seamless, and infinite.

Even when the story didn't end with always.

"I'll do my best," Clarke smiled, and she meant it.

X

Lexa stood off to the side of set, her arms crossed over her chest as she stared at the scene before her. They'd only just begun shooting this movie, and Lexa was still trying to get familiar with her idea of it. Her take on the story line, what she wanted to convey, what she wanted her actors to convey. The plot was simple. Boy meets girl, girl is in love with someone else, boy finds love in another girl he hadn't really noticed until he realized that first girl was a bitch. It's the type of movie that Lexa usually strays away from, the sappy, romantic, _feelings_ kind of movie. Lexa doesn't do sappy and romantic, she barely does feelings. Lexa Woods is all about the art, the crafted storyline, the imagery and the ideas she can create with a single shot. Something about this script, though, peaked Lexa's attention. Maybe it was the brutal way that the protagonist realizes his love isn't right, the way he's so blinded by something he can't even explain, but Lexa's original vision keeps changing. It's blurry, and weak, and needs to be cleared up quickly before they get to the key scenes.

Irritated, Lexa pulls up the long expanse of dark brown curls that she'd let drape down her back. Tying it up, Lexa tries to understand why. Why she couldn't think straight lately, why she couldn't focus on her work, and why it was all linked to the same person she'd though she'd forgotten about. "Hey Commander." The voice shocks her, mostly because it's been a few months, and also because it's loud, and overbearing, and quite obviously Raven Reyes.

Lexa turns, and is quickly pulled into a pair of arms and met with the scent of Raven's perfume and the faint tinge of gasoline, no doubt from one of her experiments from the engineering lab she works at. Lexa lets out a chuckle, because that's all you really can do when you're the object of Raven's attention, it's fleeting, and mostly full of light teasing, but it's still the same type of affection that leaves you feeling warm.

"Hey stranger," she replies, stepping back from Raven after a moment. "How did you find me?"

"Oh I just listened for the sounds of quiet pining, and denial, and well, here I am." Raven grins, and to anyone else her words would seem cruel, but not Lexa. Lexa knows what Raven means, and though it annoyed her, she could never fault Raven for being honest.

"So she told you," Lexa sighs, because she knows this is a moment that neither of them had anticipated, but had also always wondered about. Raven was Clarke's best friend, she'd always been Clarke's best friend, even when she called Lexa three months after the party to tell her how sorry she was, and that Clarke was an idiot, but she would come back. Clarke never came back, but Raven did. Raven stayed, and although it was hard at first, although Lexa had to swallow all the questions burning at the back of her throat – _Is she happy? Does she miss me? What is she doing? Is with_ him _now? –_ Lexa didn't think she would have survived the last six years without her. Without one last piece of her old life.

"Not at first," Raven says, plopping down on the chair with an embroidered 'Lexa Woods' across the back. "But it didn't take long for me to realize, especially since she's cried for almost three days straight."

Lexa feels a pang of guilt from the words she'd said to Clarke in the bathroom that night, the thought of Clarke crying because of her. Raven must notice, because she reaches out and catches Lexa's elbow. "Hey, it's not your fault. You know how Clarke is, you know how she was during that…during that year. She just feels guilty Lexa, she has since the day it happened."

Lexa recoiled at that, gently, so she wouldn't offend Raven, but she couldn't talk about it anymore. She couldn't keep picturing Clarke's retreating figure as she walked away, leaving Lexa broken and on the brink of a meltdown. She couldn't keep remembering what it felt like to lose forehead kisses in the morning, secret smiles reserved for only each other, love that always felt reciprocated. Love that Lexa wishes she could forget. "It's in the past now, Raven." She says, giving her friend a strained smile. Lexa didn't have the right to ask about Clarke anymore, she also knew she shouldn't want to.

"That's all you got." Raven replies, monotone, and fixing Lexa with that cool glare she gives to everyone, everyone but Lexa, and probably Clarke. Nobody could look at Clarke that way, Lexa thinks, not even if they were Lexa.

"Drinks?" Lexa asks, ignoring Raven's words, because she knows this proposition is what she truly wanted.

Raven's smile is slow and deliberate, "Sounds good." The words go unsaid, but both women know what happens when they share a drink or two. Lexa couldn't talk about Clarke sober, so they'd have to fix that first.

X

 _Clarke had loved Lexa for as long as she could remember. It was harmless, at first. Her crush on the cute girl who lived three doors down. They used to have sleepovers, play in the mud, and ride their bikes up and down the neighbourhood streets until their legs ached and their cheeks cramped from smiling, and laughing, and all their talking. Clarke still swears that she'd never seen anyone quite as beautiful as Lexa, and she knows this because she'd seen her in every stage of their lives so far._

 _She's seen Lexa at seven, all long limbs, and scratched knees, and freckle dusted cheeks. Clarke had seen Lexa at thirteen, taller, snarkier, and with a smile that made your insides curl up into a ball. She was staring at Lexa now, sixteen, still tall, still with a constellation of freckles dusted across the bridge of her nose and apples of her cheeks, still smiling with that summery type of smile. The smile that never fails to remind Clarke of July, of being sticky with sweat and orange flavoured popsicles that her mom used to buy for them, of running, and biking, and swimming for hours until the sun went down and the two of them would fall asleep in Clarke's large game room, exhausted but blissful. Lexa, despite her reputation for being broody, and stand off-ish, was the sun to Clarke. Bright, brilliant, and a magnetic force she couldn't quite shake off. Not that she wanted too._

 _Tonight, however, as Clarke sat on the edge of Bellamy Blake's couch, and watched as Lexa danced with that girl from her statistics class, Clarke wanted desperately to be pulled from her orbit. To go rocketing away from everything she was feeling, the jealousy, the anger, the_ wanting. _The music thumped throughout the Blake's home, and Clarke felt it in every part of her body, the ferocity of the beat doing nothing to help calm the swirl of anger she felt in her gut when the girl leaned in close to Lexa. Dipping her head so that she could whisper in her ear, her long red hair falling over her face, obstructing Clarke's view and any chance of her deciphering what she might be saying._

 _Lexa is laughing, and Clarke feels her heart constrict at an alarmingly fast rate. Clarke knows that isn't normal, she was going to be a doctor one day, and she didn't need a professional to explain why her heart always seemed to do weird things when her eyes were trained on Lexa Woods. She didn't need anyone to tell her really, it had always been obvious, at least to Clarke. Before thinking about it, Clarke was jumping up, and walking over to the other side of the lounge where he'd be waiting. Strong arms, and soft words, a love she only wished she could reciprocate in the same way. A love that seemed impossible when Lexa was standing before her, all brightness, and sunshine, and that god damn magnetic pull on Clarke's body._

 _Bellamy was hugging her before she even knew she'd entered into his space, his arms were sliding around her waist and when she looked up she was met with his smile. Crooked, and sloppy, and so clearly intoxicated, but Clarke didn't care. That would just make what she was going to do that much easier. She knew she shouldn't be doing this, using Bellamy like this. Lexa had told her to stop, but she'd also failed to realize she was the reason. So until Lexa woke up, until she took a step back and realized that Clarke was there, that Clarke had always, always, always been there, Clarke wouldn't stop herself from indulging in her one guilty pleasure. From feeling something other than crippling love for someone who didn't love her back, at least not in the same way._

 _They'd been dancing for a few songs, and Clarke didn't pull away when Bellamy's hands slipped up the back of her top. The warmth of them reminding her that he wanted her,_ needed _her, and it had been so long since Clarke had felt needed like that. "Clarke," He said into her hair, pulling her face up to meet his, their lips barely touching. "Does this…" He swallows, "Do I-"_

 _He didn't finish, Clarke closed the distance between them, wrapping her arms around his neck and closing her eyes tightly so she wouldn't cry. So she wouldn't feel horrible about wishing Bellamy was someone else._

 _"_ _Clarke." It was jolting, the sound of Lexa's voice above the music, the thought of Lexa while Clarke's lips and tongue were tangled with Bellamy's._

 _Clarke pulled back instantly, like she'd been burned. Whipping around, Clarke faced Lexa and tried to channel all her anger, all the hurt and the jealousy, into her eyes. "What?" She snapped, her hands balling into fists._

 _Lexa's eyes widened in surprise, Clarke was known to be feisty, but never with her. She reached for Clarke then, pulling her by the wrist, and into the first open door she could find. She closed the door behind them, and Clarke swallowed at how far away she felt now. How the muted music filtering through the door seemed miles away from her, how Bellamy seemed miles away from her._

 _"_ _What are you doing?" Lexa asked, exasperated, but still kind, still soft, still_ Lexa _. "You are just hurting him, Clarke. You don't feel the same way, so why do you keep making him think you do?"_

 _Clarke swears that in this moment, this was the closest she'd ever come to hating Lexa. Every part of her burned with emotion so strongly, she thought she might splinter apart. "Maybe," Clarke says lowly, "because I'm so sick of feeling nothing at all."_

 _Lexa's brows knit together, and Clarke can see she's worried. She keeps wringing her hands and biting her bottom lip, looking Clarke up and down with a flushed expression that Clarke hadn't ever noticed before. "What do you –"_

 _"_ _Actually, no, forget what I said. I don't feel nothing, I…I feel everything, everything one person can feel and maybe even more, but I can't take it anymore Lexa. I can't keep letting you do this." Clarke's vision has become blurry, she's shaking and her heart is beating so violently in her chest she's sure it's going to break skin. It's time, and whether Lexa's ready or not, Clarke's not going to look back._

 _"_ _Clarke, what are you talking about? I'd never want to hurt you." Lexa steps forward, reaching for her again, but Clarke dodges her heading for the door._

 _"_ _Just…Just don't Lexa, not tonight."_

 _"_ _Clarke!" Lexa's voice breaks, and Clarke turns then, hand on the doorknob, ready to walk back out and try and leave her feelings at the foot of this door. "Don't walk away from me, not right now."_

 _Clarke is struck with guilt, as she watches Lexa's bottom lip tremble. "I love you, Clarke."_

 _Clarke feels sick, she takes a deep breath. "Yeah," she exhales, "Yeah Lex, I know." She turns back to the door._

 _"_ _I know you don't feel the same, Clarke, but I can't keep pretending that I just want to be your friend."_

 _Clarke doesn't move. Her entire cardiovascular system has stopped working, she's sure. Turning, slowly, Clarke take's in the bewildered brunette in front of her. Tears streaking down her cheeks, caramel coloured curls falling over her shoulders, and tan skin gleaming even in this dimly lit room. Clarke had never loved anything so wholly, and completely, like the way she loved Lexa. She imagined that this was what every great artist felt like, so deeply in love with something or someone that they had to paint to not go mad. They had to create something of spectacular beauty in order to not stare at the only true form of beauty that they knew. Lexa was art. She was crafted, and curated, and fucking beautiful even like this. Desperate, and shaking, and scared._

 _"_ _What?" Clarke whispers, stepping closer now, her heart finally waking back up only to beat slowly and forcefully._

 _"_ _I'm in love with you," Lexa says, and Clarke can't breathe again._ Had she ever known how to breathe? Had she ever actually breathed before Lexa said those five words? _Clarke let out a breath she was sure she'd been holding since she was seven years old, standing across from the same girl, her heart beating steadily again in her chest._

 _"_ _But you…the girl from you statistics class…" Clarke was babbling, and still walking towards her, Lexa was opening her arms, and Clarke was stepping into them. Into security, and warmth, and…_ Love. _Suddenly, this felt monumental, celestial, suddenly Clarke felt sainted merely by the look in Lexa's eyes. The look of pure, unadulterated affection, and love, that she couldn't believe was being directed towards her._

 _"_ _I never knew you felt the same," Clarke choked out, and Lexa was crying again, but she was smiling too, and it made Clarke feel invincible._

 _"_ _How long?" Lexa breathed, leaning her forehead against Clarke's. "How long have you been in love with me?"_

 _"_ _Always." Clarke replied, instantly, reflexively, "I've always loved you, Lexa Woods."_

 **Hey guys! Sorry for the wait, I've been super busy with school. Thanks so much for the nice comments, especially to the person who said my story 'slayed' them, I just about died from that. I would really appreciate if you guys continued to leave your thoughts about the story so far, I'm having a blast writing it and can't wait for you all to see where it goes.**

 **Thanks for reading guys, new update soon!**

 **\- R**


	4. Chapter 4

CHAPTER FOUR

"I'm a fool," Lexa sighs, resting her chin in her hands and looking up at the shelves that lined the wall behind the bar. She spotted the bottle of Tanqueray and smirked, snapping her fingers at the bar tender and pointing. The man nodded, smiling back at Lexa with bright eyes and a slight blush, Lexa ignored the way he'd been looking at her all night. Much like she'd tried to ignore her feelings, but with every ounce of Tanqueray that was becoming an increasingly difficult task. "I'm…I've always been a fool when it comes to Clarke."

"You're both idiots," Raven says, deadpan and far too sober for Lexa's liking. Lexa pushes Raven's glass closer to her.

"We do this together or we don't do this at all." She gripes, throwing back the new gin and tonic that the pervy bartender just handed her.

"So what exactly is this then, Lexa?" Raven muses, sitting back, and rolling her eyes as she takes the drink.

Lexa thinks for a moment, "Closure," she says, biting her bottom lip.

Raven snorts, "Oh babe, you're married, if you don't have closure yet then you're more fucked up than I thought."

Nodding, Lexa takes another sip. "So I'm clearly not over Clarke. There, I said it, I'm married to a beautiful, wonderful, and incredible, woman, and I'm still not over Clarke. I'm awful, scum, but I love them both." Lexa tries to say it offhandedly, like it didn't plague her thoughts every second of every day. Raven must have noticed this too, because she reaches out and touches Lexa's arm lightly. And it's quiet, small, but it's alarmingly loud all at the same time.

Raven knew, she'd always known, the last six years she'd watched Lexa rebuild herself only to come back to the same conclusion. Lexa loved Clarke. Lexa, no matter the time, or place, or person she was currently with, would unquestionably always love Clarke. The silence hit Lexa like a bullet, ripping through flesh, and tissue, hitting bone. Lexa was paralyzed in the moment, in looking at Raven, and seeing the same face who'd been there for everything. Every moment, every milestone, every hardship. Suddenly her cheeks felt warm, and damp, Lexa reached up and felt tears streaming down her face. _How long had she been crying?_ "Why didn't you stop me?" Lexa chokes out, "Why didn't you tell me what I was doing was wrong?"

Raven just looked away, "Lexa," she sighed, "You eloped, remember? And besides, you wouldn't have listened to me, you never do when it comes to Clarke." Lexa couldn't deny that, Raven had tried getting her to open up for years, but she'd shut her down every time.

Lexa was certifiably drunk by now, the room was spinning, her words were slurred, but among all the inebriated chaos there was one thing she could see clearly. Clarke. Clarke smiling, laughing, crying. Clarke kissing her good night in front of her door on their first date, Clarke hugging her tightly when Lexa had found out about her parents' divorce, Clarke standing beside her mom awkwardly the day Lexa moved in across the street. Lexa's life had Clarke infused into almost every part of it up until that night, up until the accident. Suddenly, Lexa felt sick, and not from the alcohol.

"Does she love him?" Lexa asked, and it hurt to say it. It hurt to think that the answer could be anything other than no.

"Not like she loved you." Raven says, unflinching, and the sound is ringing in Lexa's ears. "Clarke is lost, she's been lost for six years."

"I was scared."

"So was she."

"She pushed me away, she…she left. She ruined me, Rae."

"You let her."

"What was I supposed to do?" Lexa spat, "Run after her begging?"

"Fight." Raven stood up, and grabbed Lexa's keys from inside her purse. "Love like that isn't just forgotten, Lexa. Clarke didn't wake up one morning and realize that she didn't like you as much as she said she did, she woke up one morning to a phone call that her father was dead, and you of all people knew how much Jake meant to her. You knew, and the moment things got hard, you let her spiral."

"For fucks sake, Raven, she left!" Lexa choked out, "She said she couldn't be with me anymore, and then she slept with someone else, what the hell was I supposed to do? What could I have done to fix that?" Lexa wasn't sure when everything changed, when the moment turned from openly confronting the elephant in the room like adults, to tension so thick she swore she could cut it with a knife.

Raven didn't say anything for a moment, she studied Lexa hard, no doubt contemplating her next words. Lexa knew they'd hurt, but she didn't stop Raven when she began. "You could have come with me all those times I called you asking for help, when I would find Clarke passed out outside a bar, when Octavia and I had to hold her down and force feed her because she'd forget every day for months, you could have been there for Bellamy when Clarke told him she hated his guts repeatedly the night he had to practically drag her out of some random person's bed. I know it's cruel Lexa, but you could have put your feelings aside for one night, because that's what every single one of us did. You think Clarke was all sunshine and happiness to us? You think it didn't hurt for all three of us to watch her wreck herself time and time again? Did you think you were the only one that loved her Lexa?"

Lexa was stunned, "No…I know we all loved her, I know we-"

"So why didn't you pick up the phone when I called?" Raven was yelling, and people in the bar were looking at them, but Lexa couldn't care less. Because Raven Reyes was standing before her, crying, which is something Lexa thought she'd never see in her lifetime. Her friend, the steady, reliable, completely unemotional Raven Reyes had mascara streaked down her cheeks, and was holding back sobs in a bar, in public, and in front of Lexa. "I needed you, Lexa. Bellamy, Octavia, Abby…we all needed you, and I know it's so twisted to put this on you, and I'm not blaming you completely, but I think it's high time that you no longer refer to Clarke as the sole reason for your unhappiness, because you're her kryptonite too, Lexa. You broke her too by letting her leave and never coming back."

"I'm sorry." Lexa whispered, staring at Raven with such dejection, and sincerity. Her heart felt heavy, her face was hot from the gin, and the tears, and the notion that she, Lexa Woods, was quite possibly the most awful friend on earth. She could add that to her list of how many things she'd fucked up, Clarke, her friends, her marriage, Lexa decided that maybe this was her spiral, maybe she'd been spiraling for six years straight, just like Clarke that summer.

"I'm driving you home," Raven said, sighing, "Come one, let's go."

X

 _Lexa never felt more content than when she was lying in bed with Clarke, their legs tangled together, Lexa's arms slung around Clarke's waist, Clarke's paint stained fingers tracing the outline of Lexa's face. Clarke nudged her nose against Lexa's cheek, smiling into the kisses she peppered down Lexa's jaw, and neck._

 _"_ _We have to get up." She whispered, fingers skimming down the length of Lexa's arms until they found her hands. Clarke laced her fingers with Lexa's, and pulled away to look at her, blue eyes bright, and vibrant, and sparkling the way they always did first thing in the morning._

 _Lexa had never met anyone who loved mornings like Clarke. She didn't love them in the traditional sense, she didn't jump up eagerly the moment the alarm clock went off, no, Clarke just really, really, enjoyed morning time. She'd lay in bed for twenty minutes, just looking out the window, occasionally sipping from her cup of coffee, and commenting on how nothing felt better than lying in a comfy bed and looking at the way sun light seeped through windows and only illuminated half of the room. Clarke was enthralled by anything that involved soft sunlight, and early morning coffee, and Lexa was enthralled by anything_ Clarke _. "No," Lexa sighed, "It's Saturday, and I don't want to share you with the rest of the world yet."_

 _"_ _Share me?" Clarke chuckled, "We're at the lake house, and the others aren't going to be here for hours."_

 _"_ _Still, I don't want to share you." Lexa said, in mock exasperation, tightening her hold on Clarke's waist. "I want all your attention not on the coffee machine, or on tidying up, or getting dressed, I want it right here, right now, and preferably, on the idea of kissing me some more."_

 _"_ _I'm always thinking about kissing you." Clarke laughed, "I barely pay attention to anything but you, Lexa Woods."_

 _It's been almost three years. Three years of Clarke saying things just like that, but it still doesn't stop Lexa's cheeks from blushing so fiercely she's sure she might be burning alive. "I love you," Lexa whispered, and she didn't need to, not when they were the only two people in this room, in this house, hell, the only two people on this property that spanned for five acres. But Lexa couldn't let Clarke exist for another second in that bed next to her, without being reminded of the fact that Lexa loved Clarke like she was sole reason for breathing, and in many ways, to Lexa, she was. She was the reason to wake up, she was the reason to breathe, she was the reason to keep going day by day because then Lexa got days like this. Mornings like this._

 _The phone rang right when Clarke had pushed Lexa's shoulders flat onto the mattress, kissing her like she wouldn't mind never coming back up for air, like she wouldn't mind drowning in each other. Clarke let it ring, once, twice, but after the phone lit up the third time, Lexa smiled and pushed Clarke off gently. "It's probably Octavia, she'll want to know if we need more alcohol for tonight." Lexa winked, reaching over the side table and handing Clarke her phone._

 _Clarke rolled her eyes, rolling on her side and propping herself up on her elbow, resting her cheek in her hand. She ran her foot up and down Lexa's calf as she swiped the answer button on her phone, "This better be good Oct-"_

 _Clarke's foot stopped. For a second, Lexa thought maybe the call dropped, until she heard Clarke go, "Mom? Mom, what is it? What's wrong?" Lexa whipped her head around, staring at Clarke's pale face, at her blue eyes, and the moment they snapped up to meet Lexa, she knew that something was not right. Clarke's mouth hung open, and for a moment, time stopped, because all Lexa could really hear was Abby's sobs from the speaker of Clarke's phone, and all Lexa could really feel was the way Clarke's body stiffened next to her, but her eyes, that's all that Lexa was really paying attention to. They were wide, and so, so, blue, and suddenly they were filled with tears. Lexa instinctively reached for her, and Clarke dropped her phone in the process of reaching for Lexa._

 _"_ _Clarke?" Lexa said, but Clarke didn't respond, she was shaking, her breathing coming out in shallow gasps, and Lexa didn't know what to do. She didn't know what was going on, but she knew that Clarke was in her arms, and Clarke was crying, and Lexa needed to fix it. She scrambled for the phone, "Abby?" Lexa shrieked, because Clarke's body was shaking violently now, and Lexa was sure that wasn't normal, "Abby what's going on? Clarke's freaking out, Abby, I think she's having a panic attack."_

 _Lexa couldn't hear much over Abby's obvious sobbing, and suddenly, Lexa felt like she was going to have to be the doctor right now. "Abby," Lexa said loudly, trying to get her to listen, "What is going on?"_

 _"_ _It's – It's Jake," and Abby's voice broke on his name, and Clarke choked on her sob and Lexa dropped the phone to wrap her arms around her and pull her closer to her, determined to stop this, to stop the shaking, and the pain, to take it all away from Clarke. But Lexa didn't account for the fact that the phone must have been on speaker, because then she hear Abby's voice once more, and it's the last thing she remembers before everything starts to overwhelm her, before she feels like Clarke is slipping from her despite the fact she was currently wrapped up in Lexa's arms. "He's dead, Lexa."_

 _Clarke didn't like mornings much anymore._

 _Neither did Lexa._

 **Alrighty, well that turned out much more depressing than I was expecting it to. So I hope you guys enjoyed getting a little back story on what happened between Clarke and Lexa all those years ago, and maybe, possibly, hate Clarke a little less...? Just want to thank everyone who has been commenting, I read them all and it truly makes my day, I especially love when you analyze the plot and characters! I'm sorry that this update is a bit short, but I've started working on the next one already, and there may or may not be a little bit of present-tense Clexa happening. ;) So what do you guys think of what Raven said? Was Lexa maybe in the wrong too? Or should Clarke still be held accountable? I'd love to hear your thoughts!**

 **Thank you so so so much for reading! - R**


	5. Chapter 5

Clarke felt terribly awkward, as she fumbled with the key to Costia's apartment. Costia had assured her before boarding her flight today that Lexa wouldn't be home till late, and that Clarke could retrieve the event planning book for Lexa's party that Costia had accidentally left in her home office. Everything about this just felt so wrong, Clarke thought, as she let herself in to the apartment and tried not to focus too much on the surroundings. She wanted to get in, get the god damn book, and get out. She didn't want to accidently catch site of Costia and Lexa's wedding pictures hanging up on the wall opposite the kitchen, she didn't want to see Lexa's shoes lined up neatly by the foot of the stairs, and she absolutely didn't want to hear the sound of the door opening again as she was on her way out of the home office.

For a long moment, Clarke wonders that if she stays completely still, Lexa won't notice her. That maybe, just maybe, if Clarke prays to every higher power known to man, they will take mercy on her and let her slip out of this apartment with at least a bit of her dignity left. But then Lexa stumbles in, her hair a wild mess of brown curls, her blazer sloppily hanging half on her shoulders and half off, and her face stained with tears. And all of a sudden, Clarke's not thinking about herself any more, or her dignity, or maybe the fact that this is by far the worst idea she has ever had. So she starts moving, and it feels like she's going in slow motion, as she approaches Lexa who has now fallen back against the door and slid down to the floor, in a heap of denim, and fancy perfume, and tears. She's covering her eyes, breathing in an out brokenly, and it reminds Clarke of sophomore year, of the night that Lexa's mom left and she showed up at her door sobbing, and begging Clarke to just be there. No questions, no expectations, just the two of them curled up in Clarke's bed while Lexa cried, and Clarke promised to never let go.

But she did let go.

She fucking let everything go.

And now, staring at Lexa in probably her most vulnerable state for the first time in six years, Clarke wants to rip herself apart. She wants to rip off this ring on her finger that feels like it's cutting off circulation, she wants to take a hammer to all her wedding pictures, she wants to call her mom and apologize over, and over, and over again. Yet, most of all, Clarke wants to hug Lexa. No questions, no expectations, just the two of them.

"Lexa." Clarke breathes out, her heart beating wildly in her chest.

Lexa looks up, startled at first, but then her eyes land on Clarke, and it feels like Clarke's entire world has stopped. Which is ironic, because at one point in time, the girl across from her was the entire world. The universe, the galaxy, the stars. "Are you-"

"Is this some kind of sick joke?"

Clarke takes a step back, like Lexa's words hit her with a physical blow. "What? No, Costia asked me to pick up a book from her office, she said you wouldn't be here."

"Did you all plan this? You and Raven, Octavia too? Is it annual fuck with Lexa day?" Lexa slurs, and she tries to sit up, but loses her footing and falls back down. Clarke starts to walk towards her, instinctively, but Lexa shoots her a look like she would rather swallow acid then have Clarke take another step closer.

"Lexa I-"

"Spiralled." Lexa finishes, and Clarke is so confused, but she is certain in the fact that this is quite possibly the most intoxicated she's ever seen the woman in front of her. "You spiralled, and I…I didn't do anything to stop it, to stop you."

"What are you talking about?" And Clarke ignores the glare she'd just been given, she steps forward anyways until she's standing in front of Lexa. Sinking to her knees, Clarke levels their gaze. "What do you mean you didn't stop me?" Clarke is trying her very hardest not to get distracted. To focus on Lexa's next words, and not the way her eyes become an even deeper green when she cried, and not the way that her white button down was unbuttoned just enough for Clarke to notice the black lace bra beneath. Clarke was failing and it was embarrassing because this was not a light hearted moment, this was important, and clearly plaguing Lexa more than she had let on that night at the dinner.

"I didn't stop you from wrecking yourself, Clarke." Lexa was shaking slightly, tears sliding down her cheeks, and Clarke wasn't thinking clearly. She never could think clearly when Lexa was this close. Clarke reached for her, hands cupping her face, and thumbs wiping away the tears from her cheeks. "I'm sorry…I'm sorry I couldn't help you the way you needed me to."

"Lexa," Clarke says, gravely. "Nobody could help me, Lex, not even you."

"I wanted to hate you," Lexa sputters, and Clarke is sure she's overcome with emotion because in no other situation would Lexa's hands be travelling up Clarke's arms, and coming to rest over her own hands on Lexa's face. "But I can't Clarke, I could never hate you, or resent you, because I…I've loved you since I was seven years old, and I know you stopped, and I know you're married, and I'm married, and this isn't ok….Oh god, oh my god, no this is so, so wrong." Lexa tries to pull away, but Clarke doesn't let her, she tightens her hold on Lexa's face and forces her to look at her.

"Listen to me." Clarke states, trying her hardest not to do what every cell in her body is screaming at her to. Trying to be strong, and dependable, just like Lexa, just like she should have been for Lexa. "I always loved you, Lexa. I never stopped, I was just scared, and broken, and I couldn't have you be a part of that anymore. I couldn't keep hurting you anymore, but I didn't know how to do that without making you think it was over. I know nothing about what I did was ok, it was wrong, and you deserved so much better than that, you deserve so much better than me."

"I only want you." Lexa says, suddenly, pushing herself forward so her face is just inches from Clarke's. "Clarke, it's _always_ been you." Clarke feels dizzy, and she's not sure if it's from the smell of gin on Lexa's lips, or the fact that Lexa's lips are close enough for her to smell. Lexa looks stunning, even like this, and _fuck_ , by now it shouldn't even surprise Clarke. Lexa's always looked ethereal when undone. Her hair messy, her eyes all dark, and lazy, and full of drunken lust, her feelings set point blank in front of Clarke in a series of drunken confessions. Clarke looks at Lexa and thinks of smiles that remind her of sunblock, and popsicle-sweet kisses, she thinks of volleyball games, and high school art exhibitions, promises of forever, always, and love that could rival infinity. So Clarke decides to forget, for only a moment of course, she decides to pretend that within the small space remaining between her and the woman in front of her, Finn doesn't exist, Costia doesn't exist, that night didn't happen.

And Clarke is just a girl again, only for a moment, she's seven years old, and Lexa is crying and Clarke is doing what she always does when Lexa cries. She's kissing the pain away. Clarke surges forward, but at the last second, the one that will determine if she truly crosses the line or not, Clarke catches sight of Lexa's ring. It's hanging from a chain around her neck, and Clarke thinks this might be what it feels like to be seconds away from the finish line of a race, just to have someone pass you at the last second.

Clarke's always been a sore loser.

She presses her lips close enough to what she'd wanted, they catch the corner of Lexa's mouth, and Clarke wasn't prepared for the quiet whimper she'd receive from the simple touch of her lips. She kisses her once more, right on her jaw, clarity coming back to her quickly.

"Lexa…" Clarke sighs, pulling away once she's sure that Lexa has stopped shaking. "You're drunk, and you're sad, and this is all just pent up emotion that you haven't had a chance to let out. And that's _okay_. You don't really mean what you're saying right now."

Lexa blinks, once, twice, and then she swallows and looks away. "You're right." And it kills Clarke, because even though she knows it's selfish, and even though she knows she has no right to wish that Lexa's words were true, she does. She always does.

"Okay," Clarke coaxes, "Well at least one thing hasn't changed."

Lexa raises an eyebrow at that. "You still can't handle your alcohol." Clarke smiles, and to her relief, so does Lexa. It's small, and quiet, but it still feels the same.

"Why don't we get you in bed?" Clarke coaxes, standing up and pulling Lexa with her.

And it is all so familiar. The way Clarke slips her arm around Lexa's waist, the way that Lexa leans into Clarke's touch, the way that Clarke is looking at Lexa now, with wide, hopeful, eyes. What's different is the house, the smell of some foreign and new body wash on Lexa's skin, the way that instead of looking back at Clarke with the same tender smile she always used to, Lexa is avoiding her eyes. What's different is everything except the one thing that matters.

Lexa loves her.

Lexa _still_ loves her.

Maybe. Possibly. Abby always told Clarke that drunk confessions were sober thoughts.

And Clarke is falling, headfirst, and quickly, back into the place she thought she'd put behind her, back to the person she'd put behind her. Grasping for something she'd thought she'd lost years, and years ago. As she tucks Lexa into bed, ignoring the pictures on the walls, and Costia's jacket hanging on the back of the door, it's almost like the last six years didn't happen. It's almost like a normal Saturday night where Clarke and Lexa would come stumbling into their houses, giggling, and kissing, and racing each other back to the bedroom, trying to not be too loud, but failing miserably.

Clarke realizes you can't fall back into something that you never lost.

X

Costia's been gone for three days, and Lexa has never felt more relieved in her entire life. She woke up late on Sunday morning, head throbbing, throat dry, but the worst part had to be the hazy memories. Raven's angry words, and silent tears. Clarke's presence in her home, the way she'd kissed Lexa even when Lexa was a crying mess of emotion, the way she'd put her back in bed like she used to. The way she said she never stopped loving her, in what Lexa assumes was a desperate act to calm her down. Clarke was always good at that, being the force that brought Lexa back to reality, being the voice that soothed her, and grounded her.

Clarke used to be good at that.

 _Used to, used to, used to._

Clarke was what made Lexa very not calm now, all jumpy, and nervous, and wishing she had some bad habit to keep her mind off the blonde; like smoking, or biting her nails.

Maybe, Lexa thinks, loving Clarke is her bad habit.

It's bad for her health conscience, but Lexa doesn't give a damn because it still hurts in the best way possible.

On Tuesday Lexa decides it's finally time to get her shit together. She is an adult, after all. A successful movie director, with the nice apartment, and the nice wife, and the nice retirement fund in the works. She'd done everything she was supposed to do, without the person she'd always thought was the driving force. The reason, the goal, the end result. She'd survived six years without Clarke, and at 10 AM on a Tuesday morning, Lexa decides she doesn't want to go on a second longer.

She wants Clarke in her life in any way Clarke will have her. Given her reaction to Lexa's confession last night, Lexa is sure that a romantic relationship is off the table. She shouldn't feel the sinking sense of disappointment in her gut, but she does. She always does. Regardless of her personal feelings, Lexa knows she doesn't need Clarke. The last six years have proven that. But she also knows, that in order to move on, to feel happy, and fulfilled again, she wants Clarke back in her life to return the balance it once had.

And Lexa tells herself it's because before everything, before Bellamy's party, and before Lexa realized kissing Clarke felt like bathing in sunshine, and moonlight all at the same time, Clarke had been her best friend. She'd been the one to hold Lexa when her mom decided that she'd rather float around the world, with random men every few months, than stay and watch Lexa grow up. Clarke had been there when Lexa's corporate-lawyer dad struggled to find any common ground with his rebellious sixteen year old daughter. If Lexa thought about it more, she was sure she couldn't find one instance in her life from the age of seven to nineteen that Clarke didn't experience with her. So she calls.

She's an adult, and she can do those sorts of things, without getting nervous, and jumpy.

 _Can't she?_

Clarke picks up on the second ring, "Hi you've reached Millers & CO events, you're speaking with Clarke, how may I help?"

 _Fuck._ Lexa forgot when searching through Costia's phone book in the home office that the only number listed for Clarke must be her work number.

"Hello?" Clarke says again, and Lexa feels her breath hitch. She should just hang up, really, she should wait for a better time, a better day, a better lifetime really. Then Clarke sighs, and it's indignant, and impatient, and it sounds just like all the sighs she'd huff out when they'd go out to eat after volleyball games and the food would take too long, like all the sighs she'd give Lexa when they were in a fake fight over who got to pick the date destination next.

"Hi." Lexa squeaks, and she slaps her face with the palm of her hand. "Hi, Clarke. It's…. Lexa."

"Oh." Clarke pauses, and Lexa feels like she might pass out. "Lexa, hi. This is a surprise."

"Yeah," She replies, because she is rethinking this entire idea, and wishing she'd called Raven to talk her out of it beforehand.

"How are you?" Clarke asks.

"I'm…I'm ok, thankfully I'm no longer hungover." Clarke laughs at that, and it fill Lexa with the tiniest sense of hope. So she continues, "I just wanted to call and say thank you for, you know, helping me out the other night."

"I wouldn't exactly call breaking into your home and then finding you drunk, 'helping you out'" Clarke giggles again, "But you're welcome, Lex."

"Yeah well, it's not exactly breaking in if Costia left you a key, so I'll let that slide. Thank you for putting me to bed, and just dealing with me…just being you." There's another pause, and Lexa bites her lip wondering if she's crossed the line or not.

"Anytime Lexa, honestly, I'm here for you always just say the word."

"I want you."

"What?"

"I…" Lexa feels her face burn even though Clarke isn't here to see it, "I mean I want you to be there, I want to be friends, I want to be…anything again, so long as we're at least in each other's lives."

"Okay."

"Okay?"

"Lexa I've wanted to reach out to you for years, of course I want you back in my life, you were once the biggest part of it." Clarke sighs, and Lexa feels that maybe, just maybe, Clarke needs her in the same way Lexa needs Clarke. For balance.

"Oh, ok good." Lexa says, and Clarke laughs a little, and it still manages to twist Lexa's stomach in the way it always did. All butterflies and giddiness.

"We should celebrate." Clarke says, "Go out with Raven and O."

"Oh…" Lexa trails off, she is sure she could handle Raven and her knowing glances, and not so subtle innuendos, but Octavia was a different story. She hadn't spoken to Octavia since the night everything happened.

"Lex?" Clarke asks, "We don't have to if it's too soon for you, I just know that Raven misses you, and so does Octavia and Bellamy."

 _Raven never told her?_

"No, no it's fine." Lexa says suddenly, not wanting the chance to see Clarke again slip away. "Just tell me when and where, and I'll be there."

X

 _Clarke hasn't left her house for two weeks._

 _She doesn't plan on remedying that anytime soon, not even with bribes of yoga and coffee from Octavia, or pleading looks from Raven. Not even sweet words, and soft kisses from Lexa have given her enough motivation to go any farther than the mail box. It just feels wrong. So, so, so wrong to keep going. To keep living like there wasn't a massive part of herself missing. Like the empty seat at the dinner table didn't make the ground fall out from under her, or the smell of his cologne on all his suit jackets in the coat closet make Clarke dizzy with ideas of: why, and how, and crippling guilt for not spending more time with her father._

 _The blank canvas she'd been staring at for hours seemed to be mocking her now, daring her to try and create something of substantial meaning when she couldn't find any meaning in life when Jake wasn't a part of it anymore. Lexa was asleep in the chair, she'd slept over every night since the day it happened. Clarke watched the rise and fall of her chest, the way she scrunched her nose when she moved in her sleep. And Clarke loved her. She loved her more than she thought it possible to love someone._

 _Lexa was kind, and warm, and so very_ there. _She was the one thing that kept Clarke steady, and perhaps that was what was beginning to scare Clarke the most. Looking at the sleeping form of the single most important thing in her life, and wondering if she could survive what she was feeling now, again._

 _If she could lose her father. If the world could take away Jake, steady, dependable, and generous, Jake Griffin. Then surely, it could be capable of depriving her of Lexa too. Clarke shut her eyes tight, ridding herself of such thoughts that seemed to be on her mind all the time now._

 _"_ _Hey." Clarke feels Lexa's warm breath on her cheek, her soft hand coming up to cup her cheek. Clarke opens her eyes to a deep abyss of dark green, to a spark of worry, and love, and curiosity she'd used to find so endearing. Now it just made her want to turn away. To hide her thoughts, and her fears, and these possibilities she couldn't stop assessing. Because hurting Lexa felt like it would be worse than losing her. Admitting her fear felt like it could make the reality of it all the more real. "You okay?" Lexa says, coming to sit beside Clarke._

 _Clarke knows that she doesn't have to lie. Lexa can see the answer in the way her hands are shaking, and the dark circles under her eyes. Lexa can see Clarke better than anyone else, and Clarke hates that now that makes her nervous. Now it makes her scared. Now Clarke knows what it's like to lose something that you love, and she doesn't know if she could survive losing the thing she lives for. Having it ripped from her one day without warning._

 _"_ _I just…" Clarke doesn't know how to formulate words correctly. She doesn't know how to voice her fears, and have Lexa understand in a way that won't make her freak out. That won't make her look at Clarke like everyone else does, like a fragile doll that needs time, space, or any of that other 'healing' shit everyone keeps going on about. "I love you." She says, finally. Looking at Lexa earnestly, her bottom lip caught between her teeth, and her heart beating fast within her chest. "You are everything to me."_

 _"_ _You're my world, Clarke. I love you." Lexa smiles, and pulls Clarke into a hug._

 _Clarke wishes it fixed everything like the way it used to. "I know," she whispers into the crook of Lexa's neck. "I know, I know, I know."_

 **Hey guys! So how are we feeling about the whole friends thing? Personally, I think it's a recipe for disaster but we'll just have to see. Thanks for the reviews on my last update, I hope you all enjoy this one. I made sure to be fair and make it longer to make up for the short one last time.**

 **As always, thanks for reading! - R**


	6. Chapter 6

So maybe this wasn't Lexa's best decision. Agreeing to go out with Clarke, and her friends, who at one point were also _Lexa's_ friends. Because right now Clarke is leaning over the bar of the swanky night club she'd texted Lexa to meet her at, and she's wearing navy blue. Lexa loves Clarke in navy blue. However, right now, Lexa _really_ dislikes the colour. Desperately so, when Clarke's eyes turn away from the bartender and find Lexa, and they do that thing where they sparkle a little when she smiles. All glittering, and sweet, and gorgeous.

 _Fuck._ Lexa hisses to herself, this was definitely not the best decision. Clarke makes her way over, her sunny blond hair shining despite the dim lighting, and her smile in full affect. And Lexa is so gone, she's past the point of checking her out, she's struggling to supress all the memories where that smile is in different settings, usually involving bedrooms, and kisses, and lusty glances.

Lexa needs a drink, she needs a drink _right_ now.

"Hey, Lex!" Clarke grins, and Lexa smiles back, gripping onto the edge of her stool. She chokes out something she hopes sounds like a coherent greeting, and follows Clarke to the back of the club where the booths are. The music was thumping loudly, and the neon lights were leaving pretty traces of colour along Clarke's golden curls, and all Lexa could think about was senior year. Fake ID's, late nights, and random clubs, and Clarke's body pressed against hers as they danced to almost every song that night. Clarke had always been the kind of girl that was made for the night life, all sweet, and sultry, and swaying hips. Lexa appraises her now, sitting beside her in the booth and laughing at something Raven had sent; Lexa thinks she knows how Clarke must feel when she looks at art. With reverence, and a studied type of understanding, but also with a million questions.

She's certain of it when Clarke turns to her again, and smiles.

 _But you're not here for that_. Lexa reminds herself, _you're here to fix a friendship._

"Octavia should be here soon." Clarke leans into Lexa as she says this, sunlight coloured hair brushing against her shoulder, and the smell of mint and Bacardi in her breath. "Are you-," Clarke's light and happy demeanour falters at this, "Are you sure you're ok with this? I don't mind if this is too much too soon, you know?" For a moment Lexa wants to say yes, _fuck_ yes, she doesn't want to face Octavia tonight. Not after everything Raven had said, not after realizing that it's wasn't just Clarke who abandoned someone that night.

Lexa had abandoned everyone too.

There were few things in life that Octavia Blake cared more about than her brother, Clarke, and Raven. The four of them had been friends since birth, and it was a bond that had always left Lexa feeling unsettled. Along with having to fight off boys like Bellamy, and Well's for Clarke's affection, Lexa had always been the most jealous of Clarke's friendship with Octavia. Of their inside jokes, and their friendly affection, it always left Lexa with a bitter taste in her mouth. The anxious feeling that maybe Clarke didn't love Lexa as much as she loved Octavia, and the idea that maybe, _possibly_ , if Clarke had been into girls, Octavia was the type she'd like. Lexa couldn't fault her really; Octavia was one of the prettiest girls in their year – right behind Clarke of course (or at least in Lexa's personal opinion). It was only after Lexa and Clarke began dating that she realized the friendship between the two girls was most definitely platonic. And Lexa really did love Octavia too, they were friends, and they had gotten along, but Lexa knew where her loyalties lied. Where they _always_ lied. With Clarke, and Bell, and Raven, and if Lexa wanted refuge for her broken heart she'd have to find it somewhere other than Clarke's friends.

"I'm fine." Lexa says, finally, more to herself than Clarke; and she means it. She _is_ fine. She's not broken anymore, she's definitely not in denial anymore, but if anything, Lexa is stronger than before. And she's willing to face the things she ran away from years ago, as long as it meant that Clarke would come back. That Clarke would stay.

Maybe that made her a masochist, forcing herself to be around the woman who so easily tore her apart, but Lexa also thinks that maybe it was how the universe meant for it to happen. Maybe Clarke was never meant to be hers, but Lexa was _always_ meant to be Clarke's. If not in this life, then possibly the next.

"I'm happy we're doing this," Clarke says, squeezing Lexa's hand. "I just…I miss you."

Lexa ducks her head so Clarke can't see the obvious blush painting her cheeks, "I've missed you too, Clarke.

"Missed?" Clarke questions, her voice wobbling a bit and it surprises Lexa, making her look back up. "Past tense?" Clarke whispers that last part, and it ignites something within Lexa. The way she's looking at her, the way she hasn't moved her hand, the way Clarke is so desperately phrasing that question without a second thought.

"I'm always missing you, Clarke." Lexa chuckles, and she decides that if she can't be brave tonight she should just go home; but Lexa's not going anywhere with Clarke's hand sending shockwaves through her skin. "It was weird; you know? Going through life feeling like a part of me wasn't where it was supposed to be."

Clarke opens and closes her mouth a couple times, a glassy sheen has seemed to setting over her eyes and her grip on Lexa's hand tightens, she starts to pull her closer. "Lex, the other night you – "

"Griffin, you skank!" Clarke barrels away from Lexa like she'd been burned, whirling around to face Octavia who was now walking towards them. Lexa takes this moment to practice some of that deep breathing shit Costia was always telling her about.

"Only the first hour into the night and you're already hitting on someone – oh," Octavia's smile falls as soon as she see's Lexa. "Lexa, hi.

"Hello Octavia," Lexa says, straightening her back, and smiling. Lexa wasn't expecting this too be easy, but the murderous look in Octavia's eyes suggests that this was going to be one very long night.

X

 _Clarke felt cold. She knew that it was silly, given that it was the fourth of July, and she was standing by the large bonfire on the beach at her family's annual independence day party. Lexa was off getting her a drink, and Clarke was off somewhere in the depths of her worsening anxiety. Of her denial, and her new found need to just_ forget.

 _Clarke Griffin, for the first time in her life, wanted nothing more than to disappear into the background. She wanted to go somewhere where she wasn't known, where she couldn't feel the sympathetic glances, and the hushed whispers. Where she could stop worrying about what her mind told her was inevitable._

You're a mess.

Everyone just feels sorry for you.

Lexa is going to get fed up with you.

Lexa is only still around because she feels bad for you.

Lexa doesn't love you, how could she when you've turned into a blubbering mess?

 _She knew people had been talking, she'd overheard a few conversations. Lexa was beautiful, popular, and very sought after, and Clarke had managed to convince herself that it was only a matter of time. Soon Lexa wouldn't be able to stand Clarke anymore, soon she'd feel smothered by responsibility of her, soon Lexa wouldn't be able to look at Clarke with more than a diluted sense of love and pressing responsibility._

 _And Clarke hates it. She hates herself, she hates her feelings, but more than anything, she hates what she's doing to Lexa._

 _Lexa, her best friend. Lexa, her soulmate. Lexa, the single reason Clarke hasn't completely disappeared yet._

 _Love was so tricky. It could be suffocating, and all consuming, but it was the magnetic force that had kept Clarke from getting in her car and never coming back. It was Lexa's soft smiles, and her gentle words, it was her warm hands tracing constellations against Clarke's back on the nights where neither one could fall asleep. And Clarke loved her, god, she loved her with every fibre of her being._

 _But Clarke couldn't be the reason Lexa keeps calling in sick to work. Clarke can't be the one that makes Lexa finally decide to transfer schools next year, like she's been talking about. Clarke can't be the reason Lexa keeps cancelling her surfing trips with Octavia, or her family outings with Anya, and Gustus. Clarke absolutely cannot be the one who ruins Lexa Woods. Because Lexa Woods was one of the most fearless people she had ever met, armed with so much hope, adventure, and courage inside of her. Clarke shouldn't be allowed to anchor her down like this, to demand all of her love, and light, be solely focused on Clarke's insecurities, and her fears._

 _Clarke would not do it, and by admitting that, she knew there was only one way to handle this._

X

Octavia's eyes keep roaming over Lexa in that dark, and menacing kind of way. Like she's sizing her up for battle. There was a time where Lexa was sure she could have taken her, back in her volleyball Commander days, back in her _Clarke_ days, but now she's not so sure. Right now, Lexa feels a bit fragile, at the sight of Clarke dancing with Raven and looking so happy, at the feeling of one of her former best friends beside her. At the idea that there was going to be a lot left unsaid if Lexa doesn't woman up. Lexa came here to fix her friendship with Clarke, but maybe Clarke had brought Lexa here for other reasons, because apart from their greeting, Clarke had given Lexa and Octavia a lot of space.

Sighing, Lexa took another long sip of her drink. _Just get it over with Woods._ "Octavia, I-"

"She misses you." Octavia cuts her off, and Lexa blinks, taken aback.

"No, that's not what I wanted to talk about." She says, turning to Octavia more fully.

"I know," Octavia says evenly, "but it's what you would rather talk about. I know you, Lexa, Clarke's all you ever want to talk about."

"Not tonight," Lexa swallows, "not anymore." Octavia looks back at her, eyebrow raised, lips pursed, and disbelief radiating off of her. "Octavia, I'm an adult now, so are you. I'm more than capable of separating my feelings from duty."

"And what exactly is that?" Octavia questions, taking a sip of her drink.

"I want to apologise to you, Octavia. For leaving, and, I guess, for never coming back. I was hurt by Clarke, but I didn't have to cut you off in the process of my healing."

Octavia doesn't say anything at first, just swirls the straw of her drink around and around until Lexa is sure she should just turn around and leave. "You were one of my best friends," she says quietly. "I lost Clarke that summer, and Lexa, it was the worst three months of my life. The worrying, the anxiety, the stress, and God only knows what she was going through. But, fuck, Lex, I lost Clarke for a summer and then…and then I lost you for years."

Lexa is nodding, and trying her hardest to keep it together, because this felt like it was breaking her, and putting her back together all at the same time. She felt cleansed, and redeemed, and _free._ "I hope that this means we can work toward a friendship again."

"Oh stop being so formal, Woods." Octavia, smiles, and it's watery, and a little sad, but it's strong. It's the kind of smile only Octavia can pull off. "Come here!" She pulls Lexa into a hug, and Lexa reciprocates, catching Clarke's eyes from across the room. Clarke was smiling brightly, tugging at her necklace in the nervous way that lets Lexa know she'd been watching the whole time. The pull away, and Octavia tugs on her hand once more, bringing her ear to her mouth.

"And I meant what I said, Lexa, she misses you, and I think…I think deep down you know."

Lexa reels back, unable to process Octavia's words at the sight of Clarke's approaching figure. Clarke's beside her in seconds, grinning, and swaying her hips, hands reaching for Lexa's.

It's in this moment Lexa knows she is seriously fucked. She's all of three things right now, tipsy, emotional, and still completely, utterly, hopelessly, in love with Clarke Griffin. And Lexa knows she really should be smarter about this, that she really shouldn't be letting Clarke lead her onto the dance floor, that she really shouldn't be dancing with Clarke to such a sexy, and tempting song. However, the feeling of Clarke's hands on her hips, and that sultry pout, dilutes every shred of Lexa's sensibility, more than alcohol ever could. They are edging closer to each other at every few beats of the song, and Lexa swears she's never felt so ignited by someone's touch before. Clarke's hands and everywhere and granted they are in a dimly lit club, but there are people all around them, their friends are somewhere adjacent to the dance floor, and Lexa know she shouldn't be enjoying this so much.

It's then that Clarke reaches up and pulls the hair pin out from Lexa's braided updo, her wavy brown hair tumbling down her back and over her shoulders. Lexa flinches at first, remembering that Costia always liked her hair up, and styled, saying it made Lexa look professional and perfect. She started to tug it back, but Clarke caught her hand in the air, bringing the back of Lexa's hand to her lips. If Lexa hadn't already melted before this moment, she was sure the feeling of Clarke's chaste kiss to her skin would send her over the edge.

"You have always looked so beautiful with your hair down, Lex. So free, and happy, and wild," Clarke giggles, pulling Lexa closer, and Lexa can't help but wrap her arms around Clarke's neck. "Just like when we were kids."

"A lot has changed since then, Clarke." Lexa whispers, breathily.

"Yeah, but not that, not your beauty… that could never change." Clarke smiles dazedly at her, and Lexa is trying hard to decipher if she's just drunk or brave.

"You don't have to flatter me, Clarke."

"I'm not trying to, I'm just observing the facts I see before me."

"My beauty is a fact? You clearly don't remember seeing me early in the mornings."

Clarke sobers at that, stiffening a bit in Lexa's arms. "I remember," she says quietly, "and personally, I always thought that was when you looked the best."

Lexa is losing her footing with her feelings right now, with Clarke's intense words, and soft stare. "that's enough, you lady killer." Clarke frowns, and there's a dullness in her eyes now. She looks at Lexa for a long moment, before she pulls away completely, "I-," she stumbles of over her words, "excuse me for a moment." She turns and walks off, leaving Lexa on the dancefloor, in a daze, a sick feeling sinking into her heart.

 _Clarke's words didn't mean anything, right?_

 _She was just drunk, right?_

Lexa watches Octavia scamper off after Clarke, as Raven watches them from her seat at the bar. Suddenly, Lexa became all too aware of what she was doing. She was at a bar with her ex, dancing with her ex, listening to the sweet words of her ex, while her wife was away on business. While Costia was probably asleep somewhere completely unaware of Lexa's unmanageable feelings for her assistant, and Lexa feels so _heavy._ With lust, with love, with…remorse. She loved Costia, but could she really compare those feelings to what she felt for Clarke? Lexa caught Raven's gaze from across the room, giving a half-hearted wave, Lexa tore for the exit, ignoring the screaming protests of her heart. Before jumping into a cab, Lexa sent a message off to Clarke, hoping it would sober both of them once she sent it.

'Thank you for tonight, rebuilding a friendship with you means everything to me. I'm sorry, but I forgot that Costia flies home tomorrow, and I have a lot to get done before she's home. Talk soon. X' - Lexa

 **Hey guys! Long time no see, and yes I know, it has been WAY too long. Tbh, I'm not the biggest fan of this chapter but for the most part it's a filler to the next instalment which is gonna be Lexa's birthday, and will be jam packed with all the clexa feels. I'm sorry for the long absence, but life has been hectic and well guys as of tomorrow I'll be a high school graduate and I'm still coming to terms with that, and exams, and just being an adult in general. I promise to be more consistent though, and would love your feedback on anything and everything! Thanks so much, R**


	7. Chapter 7

**Hey** **guys I know there's been some trouble with reading this chapter, so I've tried to fix it, hopefully it's working!**

 _Lexa is sitting on the large green slide when she sees it happen. Murphy grips the end of Clarke's braid tugging her backwards off the swing and laughing hysterically when she begins to cry. Lexa is practically soaring down the slide, and towards the commotion on the other side of the playground, her ponytail bouncing with each bounding step, and the 3rd grade prefect badge on her jacket gleaming in the sunlight._

 _"_ _Hey!" She yells, as Clarke tries to sit up, and Murphy reaches for her golden braid again. "Don't even think about it!"_

 _Both Clarke and Murphy glance up, surprised, and Murphy backs away immediately, knowing Lexa is not above telling on him when they all return to class. Clarke's eyes are glassy, but she's got that defiant pout on her lips that Lexa has come to recognize through passing glances through the hallways, soccer games, and school events, Clarke will not cry with that pout on. "Say you're sorry." Lexa demands, strutting up to Murphy with a fire in her eyes sparked at the thought of Murphy getting away with hurting her – friend? Neighbour? – Lexa wasn't sure of what Clarke was to her yet, after all, she'd only moved here a few months ago, but she knew the feeling she got at seeing the blonde hurt, and she intended to bring justice to this situation._

 _"_ _Oh come on Lexa," Murphy sighs, kicking up some mulch with his shoe, "we were just playing around, right Clarke?"_

 _Lexa looks at Clarke who glances at Murphy with a hard, and incredulous look, before turning back to Lexa. The two shared a look of – how can boys be so stupid? – before Lexa took it upon herself to teach Murphy a lesson. "Well in that case," She says, marching up to Murphy and taking a strand of his long, tangled, mousy brown hair, and tugging it, "You won't mind if I do this?"_

 _Murphy wiggles out of her grasp, "Ouch!" he yells, running off and casting an annoyed look over his shoulder at the pair._

 _"_ _Oh come on, Murphy!" Clarke calls after him, "she was just playing around!"_

 _Lexa and Clarke giggle as Lexa reaches down to help Clarke up, smiling is silent victory and maybe even solidarity. The two had spoken a few times before, in passing, and as polite as could be when 8 years old and unaware of what polite small talk even was. "Thank you," Clarke says, after a moment, smiling up at Lexa brightly._

 _"_ _He deserved it," Lexa shrugged, the two walk side by side back to the school building._

 _"_ _Would you want to come over after school today?" Clarke asks, out of nowhere, and Lexa glances back up at her surprised. "A few of my friends are coming over to swim, you should come, it'll be fun."_

 _Lexa contemplates for a moment, she's always wondered about Clarke, and her friends, and the way that everything just seems so…sunny, when she's around. "Yeah, ok," she smiles, and Clarke grins back even wider, making Lexa really thankful for Murphy and his braid-tugging tendencies, because it led to this unlikely invitation, and matching, bright, sunshine like smiles._

X

"You've been working pretty hard lately," Finn says from across the living room, "What gives?"

Clarke straightens up, eyeing her finishing touches on the invites to Lexa's surprise birthday event, before turning to give Finn and icy glare. "What do you mean?"

"I mean; I've barely seen you the past two weeks. What has Costia got you doing that you're barely ever home?" He's agitated, Clarke can tell, but she also doesn't care enough to indulge in his childish pleas of you never have time for me anymore. That should really be a sign to her, and deep down, Clarke probably already knows. Her single mindedness over the past two weeks is due to her obsession with making sure to throw Lexa the best 25th birthday party ever, and has in turn, caused strife between her and Finn. But how is Clarke expected to focus on things like being home for dinner on time, and making sure that Finn doesn't mess up the laundry, when she's got the ever-present picture of Lexa's flushed face from their night at the club stuck in her head. The words that tumbled out of her lips like it wasn't even willingly, like her mouth refused to overthink her answer before she gave it.

'I'm always missing you, Clarke.'

How the fuck was Clarke supposed to be present, and loving, and all Finn, Finn, Finn, when she couldn't stop thinking about how good it used to feel to be in love, and loved by Lexa Woods? This party was every 'I miss you' and 'I'm sorry' that Clarke has wanted to say to Lexa over the past six years. It was blood, sweat, tears, and an unmistakable I'm still in love with you.

But Clarke doesn't care.

"Clarke!" Finn yells, startling Clarke again. "Jesus, are you even listening to me?"

No. She thinks, I usually try not to. "What is it?" She asks, once she's counted down from ten in her head.

"I said, if you had of cared enough to listen, that I've been talking to the boys about that Vegas trip next month, and we are all in agreement."

"Next month?" Clarke asks.

"Yes."

"What weekend, Finn?"

"The second one."

"Of course," Clarke giggles, "of course."

"What now, Clarke?" He sighs, turning away from her.

"Did you check the calendar, dear? You know, the one I keep on the fridge? And the one that I have synced to our phones?" Finn stares at her blankly, and Clarke begins to wonder why she even ever puts up with men. Feelings for Lexa aside, what the fuck is the male mind set, and why the fuck did she marry the walking embodiment of it?

"What? Am I missing another one of those shitty art exhibitions you're always dragging me to?"

That was it. Next thing Clarke knew, the cord of the hot glue gun she'd been using was ripped out of the socket, and the gun was flying, no, soaring, right for Finn. "Jesus fuck, Clarke! What was that?"

"It's MY exhibition, you asshole!" Clarke yelled, shoving back from the table and storming off to their bedroom to find her shoes and coat. "The one where Octavia and Lincoln's friend asked for me to make three pieces for! The one I'd been really excited about! The one you said you would accompany me to when I tried to show you the paintings!"

Finn knows he's messed up, it's evident in the way he avoids making direct eye contact with Clarke, as he now walks over to the fridge to check the calendar. He says nothing as he skims over it, nothing as Clarke breezes past him to grab her keys from the counter, and when Clarke turns to him one last time before walking out the door, a pesky tear trailing its way down her cheek, Finn does what he always does.

He laughs.

"Clarke, baby, come on." He chuckles lightly, and begins to walk towards her. "Ok, so I forgot one thing, there's no need to cry, I'll see the paintings again when I get back! I'll take you out somewhere nice, and we can go to that little Italian place you love! "

"Don't." Clarke says, as he tries to step into her space.

He arches an eyebrow at her, "Are you seriously mad?"

"Do you seriously think you've done nothing wrong?"

He says nothing for a moment, but it speaks volumes to Clarke. She studies him once again, classically handsome, charming, yet completely underwhelming Finn Collins. Her husband, her supposed best friend, the person she was supposed to be able to count on no matter what. "I love the water," Clarke finally says after a moment, looking at him seriously as he eyes her with confusion.

"What? What does that have to do with this?"

"You always seem to think I don't, but the truth is, I fucking love it but you just never took the time to ask, did you?"

"Clarke, stop this-"

"I'm not finished." She said, levelling him with her gaze. "I was so, so broken when I met you, Finn, but you came along and convinced me of a life that I'd never pictured for myself. All white picket fence, and normalcy, and I really thought you meant it. I really thought you wanted this. But I know now, I know that we're not who we should be. We're faking it, maybe…maybe we always have been. Faking this idea of perfect. You don't want this life, Finn. You don't want real, true love, you just want someone to stand next to you and look pretty, and who will fix your drunken mistakes after every outing. You want an aesthetically pleasing marriage, but you don't want a relationship."

"Clarke, how can you say that? We're married, you…you're my wife, you've met my parents, my friends, you are the biggest part of my life." Finn says, and for the first time, Clarke thinks this conversation has actually sobered him. The way he's looking at her, with a bit of sadness and hurt, but Clarke's not foolish enough to trick herself into thinking he's hurt over the threat of losing her. No, Finn Collins wasn't afraid of being alone, but he was deathly afraid of being seen alone.

"Then how come I feel like I'm drowning?" She cries, falling back against the door, because Clarke knows it's final. This is the conversation she's avoided for months; this is the event that will leave someone broken tonight. Looking into Finn's eyes, Clarke feels her stomach twist up, seeing a part of him she thought she'd forgotten, a bit of the college boy who made her laugh, and forget. The boy that once made her kind of happy. Finn's not laughing right now, he's not even smiling, but it's not enough to save Clarke from the ocean of distance they've created between them. It's not enough to make her forget the way Lexa's smile still makes her dizzy.

"I –" Finn falters, "I love you."

"No Finn," she smiles sadly, "you think you love me, you think you're supposed to love me because that's what husbands do."

"Clarke-"

"If you loved me, you wouldn't go out every weekend and get drunk with your friends." Clarke looks down, "You wouldn't get pissed at every occasion even after I've begged, and begged, for you to get some help. You wouldn't have forgotten our anniversary two times in a row, and you wouldn't stare at Raven – my best friend – the way you do."

Everything is so quiet, and so still, and Clarke thinks maybe the only person who will end up hurt tonight is Finn's mother when she hears the news. Then Finn slams the glass he was holding on the ground, it goes shattering across the hardwood floor, splashing dark brown liquid everywhere. Clarke yelps, and Finn carries on, yanking down the painting she'd hung up in the entry way, and kicking over the lamp next to it.

"Finn!" She shrieks, jumping away as he nears her, "Finn, stop!"

"You think you're so easy don't you Clarke! You think you're just a fucking walk in the park to be with too?" He spits that last part out, angry, and red, and entirely too close to Clarke's face. And suddenly, Clarke is eighteen again. She's standing in the room of a boy she definitely doesn't know very well, and he's angry at her for wanting to leave. She does what she should have done then, she reaches into her bag and frantically clicks a contact number, and as Finn yanks the phone out of her hand and sends it flying, she sighs in relief because she can see it laying on the ground near coat closet door, face up. Someone picked up.

"You're just a bitch who can't make up her mind!" Finn yells again, banging his fist on the wall near Clarke's head, and she continues to stare blankly at him, at the man she thought could fix her. "Do you think I don't know about her, Clarke?" Clarke freezes, the blood in her veins turning colder than she thought possible. "I always knew," He seethes, "you talk about her in your fucking sleep."

"Well then why didn't you talk to me about it?" She screams back, and Clarke knows she should be fearful, she knows she needs to talk Finn down not rile him up, but she can't do anything other than process this new information. "Why didn't you ask me like any normal person would do?"

"Ask you about your ex lesbian lover that you still talk about in your sleep, sounds like riveting conversation."

"Get off of me," She huffs angrily, shoving Finn away. He's persistent though, as he's always been, shoving her back against the door. Clarke's head makes contact with the door with an angry thud, and Finn stumbles back after realizing what he's done.

X

The insistent ringing is all that reminds Lexa of the existence of a world outside the script she was currently scrutinizing. Thankful for a distraction from the love story of her new movie, Lexa reaches over for her phone, and stops when she notices Clarke's name on the screen. They haven't really spoken since the weekend they went out, and Lexa would be lying if she said she hadn't missed hearing Clarke's voice over the past week. She contemplated letting it go to voicemail, not wanting for her night to end with a possibly awkward or confronting conversation with the blonde, but ultimately deciding to answer. Swiping her thumb across the glass screen, Lexa brings the phone up to her ear, "Hello, Clarke-"

There's muffled voices coming across the line, when suddenly Lexa hears a loud banging sound and a scream that sounds eerily similar to Clarke's.

"Finn!" Clarke yells, and Lexa knows it's Clarke from the scratchy way her voice comes out because that's how it always sounds after she's been crying. Lexa's standing up before she can even think of an immediate plan, her feet carrying her straight for the door as she frantically searches for her keys in her purse. Lexa's heart starts to thud dangerously fast once she hears Finn's angry voice across the line, an angry voice she's sure is directed at his wife.

"Do you think I don't know about her?"

Clarke's crying, and Lexa feels every single molecule in her body buzzing as she jumps into her car, because she isn't sure how it's possible for someone to feel as enraged as she is with Finn Collins. Lexa's head is swimming with ideas of how she's going to teach Finn just how fucking much he will know about her after tonight. It's only once she's out of her driveway that she realizes she has no idea where Clarke lives, not wanting to end the call, and praying that she wasn't going to be too late, Lexa sends a frantic text to Raven. She decides to pull onto the highway, figuring that it would be the easiest place to navigate from.

What's Clarke's address? –L

48 Hawthorne lane. Why?! –R

Lexa is speeding, racing practically, yet she feels like the car is barely moving. She feels like it's sluggishly tugging its way to Clarke's address while Lexa's heart is going into overdrive from pure fear. She's almost there, the map on her phone showing approximately 4 minutes, the sound of Clarke and Finn's continued yelling making her grip the wheel harder and harder. The moment she pulls into the driveway of the house marked 48, Lexa is sure she's never felt relief on such a higher level before.

She's barely parked the car, jumping out of it so fast that she leaves the key in the ignition and the door wide open, but Lexa doesn't care. She's a mad woman right now, sprinting for the door and practically knocking it down with her fists as she bangs viciously against the door. "Finn!" She screams, twisting the door handle and banging her fist on the door even harder. "Open this door or I swear to god I am going to make you wish you were dead!" The door swings open and Lexa practically falls forward, but catches herself at the last second. Finn's standing in the doorway, Clarke a few feet behind him, looking shattered, and scared, and surprised.

"Lexa?" She croaks out, stepping forward, Finn turns to look at her with a hard stare and she stops abruptly. Lexa is momentarily incapable of doing anything other than register the purpling colour around Clarke's forearm, but once she registers that it is in fact a bruise, that is in fact shaped like fingers wrapping around a wrist, Lexa is completely gone. She's on Finn so quickly he barely has time to turn his head from where Clarke was standing, she shoves him against the wall, and with one swift raise of her leg Lexa brings him to his knees in seconds. Raising her arm and ignoring Clarke's yelling and pleading, she delivers, quite possibly, the most powerful punch in her 25 years of life. She feels the contact of her fist with Finn's face all the way through her arm, and steps away when she feels Clarke pulling her back from around her waist.

"Don't you ever touch her again!" Lexa cries trying to pull away from Clarke's grasp, "What kind of person are you? If you so much as look at Clarke again I swear I will fucking hunt you down Finn Collins, I will-"

"Lexa!" Clarke gasps out, yanking Lexa back again and turning her so that they were face to face. "Lexa it's okay, everything is okay."

"Everything is not okay, Clarke!" She yells, and she doesn't realize she's crying until she hears her voice break during her next sentence. "He – that man, he hurt you, threatened you, and if I hadn't made it here in time…and everything is not okay." Lexa is shaking she's so angry, and she knows she needs to get control of herself, Clarke's the one that needs consoling right now, not the other way around. But Lexa can't help but think this is her doing, Finn's mere existence in Clarke's life is a result of her inability to not give up on Clarke. It's because she didn't pick up Raven's fucking calls, it's because when Clarke walked away, hurting, mourning, confused, Lexa let her and never looked back.

"Baby." Clarke's voice breaks through everything, all the heaviness, and the fear, all the adrenaline pumping through her body, Lexa looks up. She sees blue. The lightest, prettiest, sky blue eyes that she has ever seen and she believes she will ever see, Clarke's eyes search her face desperately, "Baby," she says again, "I'm alright, I'm safe." Lexa knows Clarke's saying it to calm her down, just like she used to, she knows it's just the word Clarke uses for her, but it's renewed the last shred of rationality in Lexa. She straightens up, and doesn't let go of Clarke's sleeve as she gives Finn, who is still on the floor looking defeated and broken, one last menacing glare. "Come on," she says to Clarke softly, tugging her through the door, "let's go."

Clarke follows, leaving Finn behind without a word, and Lexa wonders if this is some sort of vengeful ending, or maybe a redeeming type of beginning.


End file.
